Two angels, one with a 308
by CharismaticMegafauna
Summary: The Mojave is a harsh place.  It's a lot easier to get by when you've got someone watching your back. - FCourier/Boone.
1. Someone new

A/N: This is a series of short bits that I wrote to flesh out a FCourier/Boone romance for one of my personal Couriers, Elaine. Their interaction is the focus, not the happenings of the game's storyline. We all know what happens in game, so I didn't want to rehash all that. This was meant more like little appendices... to be stuck into the story at set points as you please. I do hope you enjoy.

* * *

Boone shifted from one foot to the other in the head of the dinosaur, doing his best to stay awake. It was difficult on slow nights. He imagined day shifts would at least be more interesting - in the middle of the night, there was rarely anything going on. He checked to see that his beret was on straight, more out of habit than necessity. Looking through his scope, he checked the horizon for threats. _Cactus … cactus … coyote … wait wha- no just a cactus_ … he kept meaning to go out there and cut down that cactus during the day. Its damn silhouette looked too much like a person. He yawned and continued … finally, he sighted movement on the road south. Squinting through his scope, he could tell it was a woman, wearing leathers. She held a black rifle with a scope, and walked slowly and cautiously along the road north.

As she came closer to town, she paused, swinging her rifle into the sling on her back. She stood there, hands on her hips. Boone felt like she was looking right at him. He was pretty sure she couldn't see him, but _still_. It made him feel odd, like he was spying on her. Well, he kind of was. After a while, she shook her head, pulling off a grey bandanna and flipping her head upside-down to tussle her hair. He chuckled lightly and shook his head. _Women._ She tied her long medium blonde hair back in a ponytail, and carefully replaced her bandanna.

The woman started up the hill, toward Novac. She spoke with a female traveling merchant who was camped outside town; he couldn't hear what was said. She sold the merchant several items - he noticed a few handguns, sticks of dynamite. She then produced a couple sets of Legion armor and some throwing spears. _Interesting._ She rummaged through what the merchant had for sale for a while. She pulled out a big, floppy Pre-war bonnet hat and tried it on, smiling. She handed over a few caps and stuffed it in her bag. He shook his head again, mildly amused.

The traveler then motioned up to the dinosaur, gesturing in a confused manner. _Had she seen him?_ The merchant replied, and the woman laughed and shrugged. Seeing her up close he could tell she was of a slight build, and maybe in her mid-late 20s. Despite her small stature, she stood with confidence, one hip slightly off to the side. He wondered if she was just putting on airs, trying to seem tough - lots of people did that in the Mojave. Then again, any woman wandering the wastes alone at night could probably hold her own - either that, or she hadn't been at it long.

He noticed a fresh scar on her right temple - previously hidden under the bandanna that had shifted when she put on the bonnet. There were older ones on her exposed wrists, as well. He decided she must be able to handle herself alright.

_Why do I care?_ he chastised himself - he was supposed to be watching for threats to the town. The woman and the merchant finished chatting, said goodbye to one another, and the newcomer walked into Novac, out of his sight.

* * *

In the morning, Boone descended the stairs from the dino; his shift finally over, he could get some damn rest. _And then do it all over again tonight_. As he walked into the main courtyard of Novac, he saw the woman again, talking to Manny. Approaching the two, he noted that her body language differed completely from the previous time he'd seen her. She was stiff, and defensive, standing at a distance from Manny. Uncomfortable, even. _Not a friend, I guess_.

As Boone passed, she turned sharply toward the sound of his footsteps, an uneasy look on her face. She studied him, as if assessing an enemy. He met her green eyes, but only for a moment, then turned and continued on to his room without looking back. As he walked away, he heard Manny say something about the REPCONN test site and ghouls.

After entering his room, he slumped down on the bed. He probably should have told her not to listen to Manny. _That asshole is going to get her killed_. Ah, well. She wouldn't be the first to die out here. He couldn't help her... He shook his head, trying to stop thinking about it. He turned on the radio to dull out the noises of the people outside and lay down to sleep.


	2. That's a start

Two days later, Boone awoke later than usual - close to when his shift started. He had slept especially well, not even waking once with nightmares. _That was unusual_. He stood, and quickly cleaned up in the bathroom, shaving his face without really looking himself in the mirror. For breakfa- dinner... _whatever_, he cracked open a tin of Cram unenthusiastically, wolfed it down, and grabbed a bottle of water and some snacks to take up with him.

He left the room, checking the lock behind him before walking out into the now dark courtyard. Manny walked by, silent, without looking him in the face. _Typical_. Once inside the dino, he heard Cliff and Daisy talking - something about selling some of those stupid rocket souvenirs he carried. _What kind of idiot would buy those?_ Boone wondered. Daisy spoke as he passed, "She is such a sweet young lady. Listened to me rattle on about the good 'ol days... back when I was a pretty little thing just like her." Cliff responded, "I dunno, she acts a little shady around me. Like she doesn't trust me without a gun at her hip. But as long as she keeps buying, I'll keep selling." Boone absentmindedly wondered if they were talking about the blonde woman that Manny had sent off to REPCONN. Had she been back that day? He shrugged off the thought.

As Boone climbed the stairs, he exhaled, not really tired, but … not really interested in being awake, either. He took his place, going through his normal routine. Scanning through the scope, he saw the same cacti and rocks that he usually did. _Damn._ _Forgot to go cut down that stupid cactus_.

A couple traveling merchants were heading out, probably on their way toward the 188. Boone lowered his hunting rifle and readied himself for another long night.

* * *

As the sun started to rise in the east, Boone heard a low rumble off from behind him. The whole dino seemed to be shaking. Turning, he saw three rockets shoot up into the sky, and off across the horizon and out of sight. Cliff Briscoe came running up to the mouth of the dino, "What the hell was all that noise?"

"Rockets. From REPCONN, I think."

"What the hell are rockets coming outta that run down place for?"

Boone turned and looked at him, irritated. "How would I know?"

Cliff gave him a look, and headed back down the stairs, leaving him alone. Boone turned back to his watch. No more rockets. A few coyotes came running away from the REPCONN area, probably scared off by the noise. He didn't feel like target practice, so he let them be.

After a while, he saw a familiar figure coming back to town from the west. She appeared unharmed. He wondered if she was responsible for the rockets. She made her way back to town, and out of sight. At this point, he knew she had piqued his interest, though it pissed him off to admit as much.

* * *

Boone had just finished up a bite to eat and was watching the time, his shift ending soon. He heard the door open behind him, and turned to see the woman emerge from the door.

She stepped back, bumping into the door frame. She looked startled, as if _he_ had barged in on her - instead of the other way around. "Goddamn it! Don't sneak up on me like that. What do you want?" he snapped.

"I thought Manny would be up here."

"He's not," Boone replied coldly. He wasn't sure why he was being such an asshole to her - other than it annoyed the hell out of him that she had proven a distraction over the past few days.

She looked around, settling back into a slightly more confident posture. "Sorry to bother you. Why so jumpy? You expecting someone?" He looked at her, surprised at her brazen questions. No one in town would speak to him like that.

"Yeah, I guess maybe I am. But not like you." He paused, considering her. "Huh. Maybe it should've been you I was expecting all along. Why are you here?"

She looked at him, confused. "I came to talk to Manny - like I said. He has information I need." After a moment, "Are you looking for anyone in particular? I could tip you off if I see them."

_Why would she want to help him? Probably just saying it without meaning it, like most people._ "Yeah, well, you see anyone wearing Legion crimson or a lot of sports equipment, you just let me know."

Her expression changed when he mentioned the Legion. He wasn't sure what she was thinking, because she looked away from him at the horizon. Curious, he asked, "What do you need from Manny?" He didn't trust the asshole, and she seemed decent enough. If he could steer her clear of the jerk, he might as well... since he was already talking to her.

She turned back, "Why would I tell you that?" She almost seemed to be toying with him, but she had a stern look on her face. "You both wear those berets - you friends?"

He scoffed, "No."

"Well, no offense... but I don't trust you." She dropped her hands from her hips, and stepped to the side, reaching for the door handle to leave.

"You shouldn't trust him either," Boone warned. As he said this, she slowed, her hand still on the handle.

She looked over her shoulder at him. Her eyes softened a bit and she murmured, "Believe me - I don't."

He glanced again at the bandanna, wrapped around her forehead and tied behind her head. He wondered about the scar. "Wait. You just got into town. Maybe you shouldn't go - not just yet."

"Why is that?" she had that playful lilt in her voice again.

He wasn't sure how to respond. "I need someone I can trust. You're a stranger. That's a start."

She raised an eyebrow, and stepped away from the door, again slinging a hip to the side. "You only trust strangers?"

Fighting back his annoyance at her quip, he replied, "I said it was a start. This town … nobody looks at me straight in the eye anymore."

She looked him over, as if she were going to ask him what he meant. Instead, she was straightforward, simple: "What do you need me to do?" Her eyes meeting his, he got the feeling that she meant it.

"I want you to find something out for me. I don't know if there's anything to find, but I need someone to try. My wife was taken from our home by Legion slavers one night while I was on watch." The woman's eyebrows shot up; a pained expression crossed her face. He quickly continued - not wanting her sympathy. "They knew when to come and what route to take, and they only took Carla. Someone set it up. I don't know who."

"You're trying to track down your wife?"

His response was sharp, "My wife's dead. I want the son of a bitch who sold her." He expected her to question him further on it, but she just nodded.

"What do I do if I find this person?"

He hadn't really thought of that. But the answer seemed simple enough. "Bring him out in front of the nest here while I'm on duty. I work nights. I'll give you my NCR beret to put on. It'll be our signal, so I know you're standing with him. And I'll take care of the rest. I need to do this myself." He knew his meaning was clear - he wondered if she'd back out.

She looked at him again, right in his eyes. Those searing green eyes made him uncomfortable. So did having her so close. Why, he wasn't exactly sure. She nodded again. "I'll do my best to find the one responsible."

He exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Good. I'll make it worth your while." He took off his beret and held it out to her. She stepped forward and took it slowly, never taking her eyes off his face until she'd moved back away again.

Stuffing it in her pocket, she replied, "I don't think I could accept money. Not for something like this." He wasn't sure what she meant, but he decided not to ask.

Boone turned away, looking back out over the landscape, doing one last sweep before he ended his shift. "And one more thing. We shouldn't speak again. Not until it's over. No one in town knows that I know what happened to my wife. Best they never know. Or the Legion will be after me next." He expected her to speak again, but he only heard the soft rustle of her leaving; the door opening and closing with a click.

He wondered if he should have told her any other instructions. Or if she was really going to do what he asked. He ran his hand over the buzzed hair on his now bare head. It felt weird. Trusting someone else with this felt even weirder. Weird, but … also, a relief. Suddenly he realized he'd never even asked her name. He found himself thinking about her for several more minutes... until Manny arrived. Awkwardly, Boone turned and left before having to speak to him. He descended the stairs, realizing he was probably not going to be able to sleep at all tonig- today.


	3. A Tentative Trust

A/N: Thanks to all of you who have fav'd or alerted this story! It gives me warm fuzzies to see that you're interested in what might happen with these two. I would really _love_ to hear anything you have to say in reviews, so please, please, _please_ leave your thoughts!

* * *

Elaine looked down at Jeannie May, crumpled a few feet away from her on the ground. He had killed her with one clean shot through the skull. _How could a woman sell another into slavery? To the Legion! Had she not heard how they treat women? Were caps worth more than your soul!_ It infuriated her beyond control. Her face flushed red with the anger she couldn't express before - not without alerting the older woman to the impending trap. _Bitch! _she spat on the dead woman's body. _Good fucking riddance._ Elaine couldn't believe she'd spoken to this woman just a couple days before; she seemed congenial as could be. _Could you trust anyone?_

Suddenly, she remembered she was being watched. She looked up at the mouth of that damn dino. She knew Boone was probably looking back, but in the darkness she couldn't tell. _Probably thinks I'm crazy now, _she mused. She spun and started to walk back to speak with him. She figured he'd at least want to see the note she'd found in Jeannie's safe_.__  
_

Trying to calm herself as she strode quickly through the front gate of Novac, her mind wandered back to her first thought when she'd seen this town. _What the hell was a dinosaur? _ No one around really had an answer. The store owner, Cliff, had told her it was a Tyrannosaur. _Like that meant anything to her. Were they pre-war animals? Were they really that big? Or were they the size of the toy in her room? _She wished she could find an answer. Stifling her curiosity with a shake of her head, she climbed the stairs and opened the door to the sniper's nest.

Boone was there, his back to her. She noticed his muscular arms tense as she arrived - like he'd been deep in thought. _Not the kid of guy you want to surprise_, she noted uneasily.

"That's it, then." he murmured with a pained finality, "How did you know?"

"This." She held the bill of sale and the red beret out to his side. He took both - first carefully putting on the beret, and then looking over the sheet of paper. She stepped back, keeping her distance from him. She still didn't have a very good feel on him. She wanted to believe he was a good person, and, well, he'd shared _this_ with her. Maybe he was right - 'it was a start' - to trust one another. _I really _could_ use someone to trust_. Even still, she couldn't help but feel nervous around him. Trust was a hard thing to come by in the Mojave, even _without_ her past.

After looking it over, he stuffed it in his pocket. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised. It'd be like them to keep paperwork." She was taken aback by his response - he was obviously trying to cover his pain and hide his emotions. Of course, she wasn't one to judge.

Abruptly he turned to her, holding out a sum of caps, "Here. This is all I can give. I think our dealings are done here."

Elaine shook her head, holding up her hands. "No. I can't take your money. If it's against the Legion, that's enough for me."

He stared at her, confused. Finally, he put the caps back in his pants pocket. She turned to walk away, but he asked, "Why do you say that?"

She stopped, trying to think of something to say. "I was- … I have a history with them. Whenever I get the opportunity, I shoot them. Nothing really to it other than that." _Who was hiding things now?_

She sighed, checking her bandanna, "What will you do now?"

"I don't know. I won't be staying, I know that. Don't see much point in anything right now, except hunting legionaries." He scuffed the heel of his boot on the floorboards. "Maybe I'll wander, like you."

Looking at Boone, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him. _Just another soul lost in the Mojave_. She looked out into the night, thinking of her own plans. She really didn't know where Boulder City was, or what to expect there. Who knows, that jerk Manny might warn Mr. Checkered Suit that she was coming. _This guy might be useful_... "Come with me. I got the information I needed from Manny, so I'm done here … I could probably use a hand. And, well, I sure don't mind whittling down the Legion."

She couldn't believe what had just come out of her mouth. She barely knew this man, and now she was inviting him to come along with her - into the wastes ... _alone_.

"You don't want to do that," he said darkly. She looked at him closely, at his face. _Is he threatening me_? Instead, as he looked out over the landscape, she could see a pain in his eyes - _regret_? She wasn't sure.

Though it felt as if she was playing with fire, she asked, "I thought snipers worked in teams?"

He looked at her, as if he didn't understand. She pulled out her rifle, and tapped the stock. He shifted his weight, saying nothing. _He must think I'm joking_, she thought. _Or maybe he just thinks _I'm _a joke. Probably assumes I carry it for show._

Placing her rifle back in its sling, she was about to say 'never mind,' when he spoke again. "Huh," he muttered gravelly. "Working on your own, you're a lot less effective. I've been there and paid for it." Then he shook his head, "but this isn't going to end well."

She was going to ask what he meant, when he added, "Fine. Let's get out of here." She looked at him dumbly, not sure of what to do or say next. Tilting his head, he motioned to the door. Complying silently, she headed down the stairs, aware of his heavy footsteps directly behind her. It was unnerving. Unconsciously, she she wanted to check for the handgun she had stashed in the waistline of her pants. Fighting the urge, she shoved the door open and exited. Instead of taking the stairs, she sidestepped and hopped off the platform to the ground. Now she could see him, walking to her side. _Better._

As they crossed the courtyard, she spoke quietly, "We should probably get a move on - before daybreak. I'm going to go gather my things. Meet back by the exit in ten?"

He nodded and started off to his room. When he reached his door, he turned to her, "Hey." She stopped on the stairs and looked his way. "What's your name?"

"Elaine." With a nod, he turned and went in his room, leaving her standing there, wondering about the man in the beret. _I hope I didn't just make a huge mistake._


	4. The Past

They hadn't really talked at all on their first day together. They'd just meandered slowly north up the 95, stopping and scavenging whenever possible. Boone was surprised by her quietness - usually women were the ones who wanted to yak your damn ear off. The silence certainly didn't bother him, though. He noticed that Elaine stayed at a distance from him, so he made a point to keep it there. Whenever he was close, he could feel her watching him. He didn't particularly like to be watched.

On their first night, they pulled shifts, each taking a turn to sleep in an empty bus shell at the 188 Trading Post. He volunteered to take the first shift. While he stood outside, he could hear her toss and turn for a bit. The hours passed uneventfully. The other folks awake at the post watched him uncomfortably - probably wondering why he didn't trust them enough to sleep, too.

When it was her turn to take watch, he peered in the door. Elaine was sleeping on her side at the far end of the bus, her back to the wall. He could see her hand resting on the butt of a handgun tucked into her leather jacket. Her finger stood ready by the trigger. He knocked on the door frame and stepped inside, causing the bus to creak under his weight.

She sat up like a shot, awake in only a second. Her eyes darted around, and quickly found him. She blinked a few times, then, "I got it." She stood and picked up her rifle... slipping by him out the door silently.

After first pulling the dingy old mattress away from the wall, he settled down on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. It was still warm from where she had been. He got a slight hint of something flowery - something like a woman would wear. He sniffed again, trying to smell it - but he couldn't catch it anymore. He exhaled heavily, and tried to clear his mind, to sleep. It was unfamiliar to be sleeping at night after all his time working in Novac_. _He stayed awake for a long while. Later on, he could hear Elaine chatting with another woman outside. Listening to their soft voices but not really paying any mind to what was said, he eventually dozed off.

* * *

The next day, they sold some scavenged items for caps at the 188, ate a quick meal, and headed up toward Boulder City. This time, he led the way, since she said she didn't know where it was. At breakfast, she'd only told him that it was where Manny's information led her. He didn't press it further.

Once there, Elaine had somehow negotiated a ceasefire between the NCR and some Khans with hostages. He had to admit, her ability to convince both sides to accept a temporary truce was pretty impressive. And it saved some soldier's lives... so all the better. It was the most talking he'd heard her do since he'd first met her.

He hadn't paid a lot of attention to her conversation with that shifty Jessup guy - Khans made him uneasy. He'd been too busy watching their backs with his rifle at the ready. He did hear her say that the man she was looking for - who turned out to be a Chairman in a checkered suit named Benny - had shot her. After that, she seemed even more distant. Either that, or deep in thought. He wasn't sure he could tell the difference with her yet. As they walked away from the big pile of rubble that used to be a city, he glanced at the bandanna, remembering the scar. It had looked like a bullet wound, but he wasn't sure.

"You said you got shot," he said, finally, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. He could feel her look at him, but she didn't slow or react.

"Yeah. In my head." She lifted up the bandanna, pointing to the whitish scar just under her hairline. "Guess I'm lucky to be alive." She didn't sound convinced.

"How'd that happen?"

"I was working as a courier. Got ambushed by some fucker for whatever I was delivering. I've been looking for him since."

"Why?" Boone asked.

"I don't know. Revenge? Answers?" She shrugged, "Maybe both. I guess I'll decide when I get to him."

"Huh," he replied. And that was the end of the conversation.

She pulled the bandanna back down over her scar, smoothing her hair back into place. She had a lot of scars, he could tell. He saw one he hadn't noticed before, across her throat. This time, he decided not to ask. In the wastes, nearly everyone had scars and stories behind them - often ones they didn't want to rehash.

* * *

It was late in the day when they came across an abandoned shack nestled up against a rocky cliff. The lights of New Vegas were just visible on the horizon. She stopped to scrounge for food. Finding three boxes of Fancy Lad and two Sunset Sarsaparillas, she handed him two of the boxes and a bottle. She sat down by an old fire pit, "Guess it makes sense to stay here for the night." He could see plainly that she wasn't pleased with the idea.

He built a small fire and then sat down across from her to eat. She didn't look at him very much, but at the same time, she was obviously wary of his movements. He was beginning to get the impression that she was nervous around him._ At least she's alert... maybe she'll turn out to be a decent spotter,_ he thought to himself.

"Can I see your rifle?" he asked after they'd finished.

She looked at him defensively - as if he'd asked her to undress. "What? Why?"

"I think I can tune it up a bit." She appeared unimpressed.

He produced an old varmint rifle that he'd picked up in the ruins of the Boulder City train station. "This one's similar - I can use this-" he pointed at part of the mechanism, "to replace yours. I can tell it's damaged."

After considering him for a moment, she nodded, "Okay," and leaned around the fire to pass it to him. He rolled the black rifle over in his hands, feeling its minimal weight. He noted it was of a perfect size for her smaller form. It was etched with the name 'Ratslayer' and marks that he assumed denoted kills. He was surprised to find it to be an excellent weapon, only needing a few tweaks. She'd shot a couple coyotes that got territorial with them, but otherwise he hadn't really seen her use it. She appeared to know what shew as doing. He hoped she'd killed more than just 69 rats with it, though.

He couldn't help himself: "You named your gun Ratslayer?"

Disarmed, she laughed lightly. "No, that must have been a previous owner. I think the gun must have been so offended it jammed up on him and got his ass killed."

Boone chuckled, surprised at her change in demeanor. "So you found it?"

She cocked her eyebrow, "I appropriated it. Well - it wasn't like he needed it anymore. I have a feeling I'll put it to better use. Besides, a gun like that shouldn't be rusting away in a cave somewhere."

"True," he agreed. After a pause, "You have much practice shooting?"

She scoffed, "Don't worry Boone. I may not be an NCR sharpshooter, but I can handle myself. Grew up on a farm. I've had lots of practice."

He nodded and turned his focus to the gun. After disassembling, repairing, and checking it, he stood and handed it back to her. She smiled, looking it over fondly in her lap, "Thanks." After a moment, without looking up, "Do you want me to take first shift tonight?"

"No. I'm not tired," he replied. She nodded and stood, walking over to the 3-sided shack and laying down on the bedroll. She pulled a blanket over herself, and scooted her back up against the far wall.

* * *

Boone sat by the still warm embers of the fire, watching the horizon. Behind him, he could hear Elaine tossing about. She seemed to be getting more agitated - he turned toward the noise. He could see her pawing at her throat, mewling something.

He got up, and walked over to the shack, _Is she alright?_ Looking in, he could see she was covered in sweat and breathing shallowly. _Sick, maybe?_ He stepped inside and knelt by her, reaching down to shake her awake by the shoulders.

She gasped loudly and woke, wild-eyed and panicked. She bucked against his grip, so he grabbed her tighter - trying to prevent her from hurting herself. She let out a feral scream, kicking at his side sharply. "Fuck, goddamn it!" he growled raggedly as he fell backwards. She scrambled to her feet, backing away clumsily and banging into a shelf at the back of the shack, sending metal boxes and pots clattering loudly all over the ground.

"What the fuck were you doing!" she screamed at him, practically climbing the wall behind her.

He gripped his side, which hurt like a _bitch_. Through gritted teeth, "You were having a nightmare. I was trying to wake you."

She pulled the handgun from her waistline - the one he'd seen the previous night. Aiming it at his face, she hissed, "Don't _ever_ touch me again. I fucking mean it!"

"Shut the fuck up, Elaine - they can probably hear you back in Novac," he barked right back. Now he was pissed, too. "Get that shit out of my face!" He tried to stretch his side where she'd kicked him; he could tell it was going to leave a bruise.

"Screw this," she said, and snatched up her bag and started off away from the shack.

He watched her go for a moment, half of a mind to let her leave. "God_damn_ it!" he uttered under his breath and followed her. "Stop! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Just stay away from me!" She whipped back around to face him. He knew she was trying to appear tough, but it wasn't working - _she looks terrified._ She trained the gun on him again, and kept backing away.

He eased around her and held out his hands, trying to block her path. "Stop it. What the fuck was that?"

She stopped, gun still raised. "I don't like to be touched. By men. It- I was-" Shifting uneasily, she kicked the ground in frustration, sending up a long spray of sand and pebbles.

He waited for something - _anything_ - to explain her erratic behavior. Stuffing her handgun back into the waist of her pants, she met his gaze. He was surprised to see her eyes now wet with tears, "I was a slave, okay? The Legion. I can't- it's not easy for me to be around... for me to trust men. Not anymore." She looked away, back toward the shack, hiding her face from his view.

He didn't know what he should say, so he stayed silent. This was not what he had expected her to say. _Not at all_. After a while standing there together, she wiped her face with her sleeve and turned back around, trying to appear collected. "I've got watch." Boone looked away from her face, which was red and blotchy from the tears.

Going to the shack, he lay down and closed his eyes - reviewing what she'd said. _Damn._ It sure made more sense now - her reaction to him talking about Carla being taken. And, of course, her spitting on Jeannie after he'd killed the bitch. He'd wondered about that. Not that it had bothered him, of course.

Soon he heard her come in quietly, pick up her rifle from somewhere nearby, and sneak back out. _Was she leaving?_ He doubted it, but he still looked up after a moment to check. She was huddled by the now dead fire, staring off into the distance. Her knees were tucked up to her chest, making her look small.

_She probably has nowhere to go_. Then he realized - _neither do I._ He was surprised at himself for feeling something for her. Some stupid-ass manly desire to protect her. Though it had been a while since Carla had been gone, he hadn't really thought of - or, hell, even really noticed - another woman. He shook his head: _Great. Just what I need_.

Laying his head back down, his thoughts still lingered on Elaine, against his better judgment.


	5. Tops and Lows

Boone sat across from Elaine at the table in the Lucky 38, half listening to her talk while they ate. Sometimes he wished she'd go back to being as quiet as she had been on their first few days together.

He hadn't really been sure what would happen after they caught up to the Chairman who'd shot her. They didn't discuss it before they got to the Tops. They'd just walked in, and she'd talked Benny into meeting them in a suite without his hired goons. As soon as he agreed to that, Boone decided this guy was obviously an idiot.

After listening to him try to weasel his way out of the situation for a while, she'd just straight up told him she wasn't letting him walk with the chip. When Boone had seen Benny pull out his girly-ass engraved nine mil, he had reached immediately for his stashed combat knife. The one he was _supposed_ to check at the door. He had figured it might come in handy. By the time he'd unsheathed it though, he saw Elaine fire off a shot from her own handgun. He'd been surprised she'd snuck it in- ... well, maybe for a moment. He kept having to remind himself: this girl knew how to handle herself. He'd learned that over the last week and a half traveling with her. Benny had hit the floor without firing a shot - now with a new hole in his head.

"Hmmph." she'd said with a smug shrug. She looked over at Boone, stashing her handgun. "So I guess it was revenge I wanted, then."

"I would've done the same thing. At least you're a better shot than he ever was," Boone had quipped back.

At that point he had thought about asking her what she planned to do now that Benny was dead. But, he realized it didn't really matter. He didn't have anything better to do. As long as he didn't have a problem with what she was doing, he figured he could stick around a little longer. Working together hadn't been half bad. She was smart, a good shot, and - once she'd leveled with him about her past - pretty easy to get along with. Plus, if she'd meant what she said about the Legion, together they could do some serious damage before- well … before it was all over.

A rapping on the table brought him back to the present. "... -Boone? Are you even listening to me?"

He looked up from his plate, "Huh?"

She scowled for a moment, then exhaled heavily. "God I hate this place. Fucking robots creep me out." she mumbled around a mouthful of Dandy Boy apples. _So ladylike._

He nodded in agreement. He preferred camping out in the wastes to this place. Everything about the Lucky 38 was unnerving. All the empty rooms - and it was so quiet. Plus, he'd disliked that when they'd arrived Mr. House wanted to see her alone. That was a red flag for sure. When she got back from meeting with him, Elaine had told Boone that House wanted her to get the platinum chip for him. And that he was some kind of robot - she'd only spoken to a weird character on a big screen. She also had said that she didn't mention to House that she _already had_ the mystery chip. For now, she was going to wait and see what her options were. She obviously didn't trust House any more than he did. _Smart girl_. It made Boone feel better that she trusted _him_ enough to keep him informed - even when she didn't have to. He didn't ask anything further about Mr. House. If there was something important, he figured she'd say more.

"What do you think about The King?" she said, chewing some squirrel off a stick. They'd met him a few days ago, while wandering about Freeside working to get a forged passport. He'd been a real piece of work, all smooth-talking and trying to butter her up. Boone definitely hadn't been impressed.

He scoffed, "Pretty stupid. Dressing and talking that way. Wouldn't catch me dead like that."

She chuckled heartily, "Now that's a thought." She shrugged, "He seems alright, I guess. It's kind of neat that they cared enough to try to find out what the place used to be. At least it's not forgotten." A second later, she added, "even if it _is_ silly."

He didn't respond, grabbing another squirrel on a stick and uncapping a Nuka-Cola. After a minute or so of silence, she asked, "You wanna go to the Strip?"

He took a swig. "We were just there."

"No, I mean like _go_ to the Strip. Hit a casino?"

"No, not really."

"Oh come on. It's my first night in New Vegas. Isn't that what everyone is supposed to do?"

Boone took a few more bites of the meat, hoping this idea would pass. He chewed silently, staring at the plate in front of him. After a moment, he glanced up. She was still looking at him expectantly. He groaned, tilting his head to the side with a put-upon look.

She 'tsk'ed' with disappointment. "Who else do I have to show a lady a good time? That creepy-ass Victor? Please?" _Was she giving him puppy-dog eyes? Seriously?_

He scoffed a laugh, "Fine. But only for a little while. It's really not my thing."

She got to her feet and started for the master bedroom, "I'll be ready in fifteen minutes, okay?"

Tipping back his Nuka-Cola he muttered an uninterested, "Mmm."

* * *

By the time she came back out out of the bedroom, he'd practically forgotten that he'd agreed to go. When she came into view he choked a little on the last bit of his soda.

She had changed into a green pre-war halter sundress. Other than the bottom hem being torn open a bit, it looked as good as new. Over it she wore an off-white shawl, covering her shoulders and back. She had replaced the bandanna she always wore with that big floppy bonnet hat she's bought in Novac on the first night he'd seen her. Her long hair was now loose around her face, almost all of the tangles brushed out. It even looked like she'd put on some kind of eye makeup. He sat there at the table, torn between laughing at her for dressing up and actually appreciating how good she looked.

At the doorway she stopped, looking surprised. "You're not going to change?"

"No," he tried his best to maintain an appearance of disinterest... although the idea of going out with her was now a bit more enticing.

With a roll of her eyes, she replied, "Ohh-kay." She turned on her heel and headed for the elevator. With a huff, Boone got up to follow her out.

* * *

After far too much deliberation for his liking, Elaine had finally decided to go to the Tops. He groaned under his breath. _Carla._ She'd always liked the place. He didn't really look forward to going back, but he wasn't going to say so to Elaine. It's not like he preferred to go to either of the other casinos, anyways.

Upon entering, they turned over their weapons. _Most of them at least_, he thought as he felt the stiffness of the combat knife stashed in the side of his boot. Last time they were here, he'd had reason for it, after all. He wondered to himself if she'd brought her handgun. He'd be willing to bet she was carrying, too.

"Hey sweetheart, come over here... you're new, aren't ya?" a man called to Elaine from the front desk.

She glanced back as if she were checking to see that Boone was still backing her up. Then she smiled coyly, practically sauntering over to the desk, "Yeah, how did you know?"

"I saw that starry look in your gorgeous eyes. The name's Swank, baby. For a gal as knock-out as you, you just tell me whatever you need."

As Boone watched, she leaned in toward the sleazy guy. She pursed her lips, with a sigh, "I guess I'm always looking for some work... not sure I've got the caps for a place this fancy." She looked around wistfully. _Oh give me a break, _Boone thought.

"Work? Oh, baby, please - you're killin' me. You should be havin' fun here! All the work you should ever have to do is sit and look pretty."

Having spent enough time with her now, Boone knew the girlish surprise that flashed across her face was a total act. "Oh! You are _too_ sweet!"

"Here baby," Swank passed her a handful of chips, "go have some fun... just seeing you smile is worth every last one." She gave him another huge grin and motioned for Boone to follow her into the casino. As he walked by, Swank gave him a superior look ... like he'd just beat Boone at life.

Once they'd made their way over to the slots, she held out the handful, "You want some?"

"Nah - _you_ earned them," he quipped with a snort.

"Oh, feeling snarky are we? Well, don't say I didn't offer." Elaine turned with a flip of her hair to plug chips into the slots. It was amusing to watch her; anyone could tell she was having fun. After Elaine had played for a while - winning a modest share, too - he found himself smiling lightly, despite himself.

* * *

Eventually, Elaine turned her chips in for caps, and headed for the bar. "Baby, what the haps?" the bartender crooned. Standing behind her, Boone ground his teeth. He was so sick of all these idiots and their stupid lingo. That, and it irritated the hell out of him that they were oozing all over Elaine right in front of him. Not that it was his place to be angry, but- … they were just assholes, he decided.

"Two scotch - and keep 'em coming." Grabbing the drinks, she tipped her head for him follow her. She plopped down at a table along the wall, away from all the commotion of the main floor. He sat down across from her. Passing him a glass, "Jeez do they do this _all_ the time? You'd think they would stop getting business."

"Do what?" he asked, regarding her as he held his glass.

"Pester women like hell?" she huffed and took a drink.

He chuckled and did the same, "I thought you were enjoying it."

She shot him a look. "Oh yeah. My favorite. A bunch of bastards trying to get in my pan- dress. Real nice."

He laughed, relaxing a bit. "Guess I don't have to pretend to like it anymore. The Tops was always Carla's favorite place. The whole vibe here annoyed the shit out of me. But, well, I tried not to be an ass about it."

She looked struck. "Oh … shit, I'm sorry. I- I didn't know," she said softly. "If you want to lea-"

"It's fine," he cut her off. He was already here, and oddly enough, it didn't bother him as much as he'd thought it would when she'd suggested it. Maybe because he had her there to watch, to distract him. Still, they finished their glasses in an uncomfortable silence, just watching the people around them idly. Soon, the bartender brought them each another.

He glanced over at her - she was fiddling with her shawl, re-positioning and tying it so it stayed up around her shoulders. He noticed how her hair was blonder at the ends, bleached by the sun. As she fiddled with the knot, she nibbled at her bottom lip softly.

Looking up, she abruptly met his stare. He hadn't noticed - her eyes were the same vivid green as her dress. She opened her mouth as if she were trying to think of something to say; a confused look crossed her face. _Shit, why am I staring at her like some kind of asshole?_

He fumbled for something to ask her, to distract from the awkwardness: "How'd you become a courier?"

She seemed relieved, and started quickly into her answer, "After escaping from the Legion, I didn't really know what to do with myself. I didn't know anyone, didn't have anything to my name. I heard that I could maybe find work up in a town called Primm. So, I headed that way with a passing caravan. I ran into the wife of the town sheriff. She took me in. Said I reminded her of her daughter." She smiled wistfully, and then laughed. He could tell she was a bit tipsy from the lilt in her voice.

"I don't know how that could have been possible - I must have looked like shit. Just skin and bones." She threw back the rest of her second glass, and wheezed a cough.

"Anyway, she let me stay in their home. They fed me and gave me new clothes to wear. Nicest folks I've ever met. I found out one of the locals ran a branch of the Mojave Express. He hired me on right away. Started out doing small stuff, only going a day's hike away."

The bartender brought them each another drink. She sipped from hers and continued, "After a while, I'd done okay ... I guess the boss felt sorry for me and bumped me up the list to get a bigger job. He probably thought I needed the caps. Hell, guess I did. I was pretty excited to be finally headed to New Vegas, so I didn't really care. And, then, I got ambushed, and … well, you know the rest. Here I am. Finally made it." She took another gulp.

"I thought the sheriff of Primm was a robot."

"It is now."

"Last time we were by there, you could have said you wanted to stop by and see them."

"I don't want to go there anymore. No reason to."

"Why's that?"

She shook her head, "'Cause they're dead. Must've been while I was recovering from being shot... stuck up in Goodsprings." She sighed, "...fuckin' Mojave." Elaine didn't seem upset, just annoyed. She ran her finger around the rim of her glass thoughtfully. Or maybe just drunkenly. _Probably the latter_.

She lifted it up for another big gulp, and added dramatically, "Them's the breaks, huh baby."

He chuckled at her words, "I hate to break it to you, but you just sounded like one of these damn Chairmen."

She sputtered out a loud laugh. "Oh god..."

"Probably should head back."

"Yeah, sure," she agreed.

He paid the tab at the bar, picked up their weapons, and they left ... heading leisurely back toward the Lucky 38. The desert air was especially cold that night. He could see her shivering and rubbing her arms as she walked beside him. He suddenly felt an urge to put his arm around her, but had to remind himself of what happened the last time he touched her. _Shit, the bruise was only now starting to go away_.

"Hey Boone?" she turned to look at him, tripping over her own feet a bit.

"Yeah."

"Will you tell me about Bitter Springs? About what happened?"

He bristled at the question, "Drop it."

She continued, drunkenly oblivious to his words, "I know some … like from what other soldiers have said, but-"

He interrupted sharply, "Elaine. I said _drop it_."

Her eyes widened and she stopped mid-sentence with an awkward gulp. "'O- okay," she stuttered, suddenly looking a lot more sober.

They didn't speak the rest of the walk back to the Lucky 38. When they arrived, she went into the master bedroom without a word and closed the door.

He felt badly for snapping at her, but just the name of that place... it brought him back down to where he'd been before he met her. The name reminded him of what he'd done. And of what he was sure he deserved.


	6. The Sting of Loss

A/N: Thanks so much to all the people who are following and have fav'd. Also - super special thanks to AbiiThePratt and rayexwasteland for taking the time to leave your thoughts in the reviews. You two gals really make my day!

* * *

Unloading her last round into the nearest Veteran Legionaire, Elaine continued to back herself up away from the road. The assassination squad kept advancing, and she wanted to keep distance enough between them to use her rifle. _I guess Caesar has heard of us, _she smirked._  
_

She shouted back towards Boone, "Reloading!" He fired over her shoulder, and the nearest enemy fell only a few feet away. _Shit._ They were getting too close for comfort with those damn machetes. She reached in her pocket and pulled out a grenade. Yanking the ring, she rolled it forward, sending the Legion men cursing and diving for cover. As she lifter her rifle again, a bullet zinged past her face. Looking for the enemy who'd fired at her, she noted a Vexillarius with a marksman carbine. Kneeling to aim accurately, her bullets tore a hole straight through his neck, sending his head flopping backwards loosely. She took down another veteran with a couple more rounds before a bloodied assassin dove at her chest from out of nowhere.

Seeing his machete glint before she even really registered the attack, she dodged to the side. His knife sliced across her shoulder with a hot, searing pain. He landed hard on one knee next to her, but still turned to attack her again. Grunting, she swung the butt of her rifle and cracked him across the face, sending out a spray of blood. With another thump from Boone's rifle, the assassin dropped dead to the ground in front of her. Quick to recover, she examined their surroundings - Legion bodies littered the ground around them. Boone stood nearby, apparently unhurt, already reloading his gun. Panting in exhaustion, she slumped over, leaning on her rifle.

Over the past weeks, she and Boone hadn't really discussed what she had revealed about her past that night at the shack. She wasn't sure she wanted to. It had made sense at the time to tell him - so he'd understand. By now, she felt much more comfortable around him, but it was better that he not ever put her in a situation where she got panicked. Yeah, she trusted him ... but it was just easier that way. They'd settled into a good working relationship, traveling between NCR outposts, offering aid where they could. It didn't hurt that he was the best shot she'd ever met. She knew she was immensely safer with him along.

"You okay?" she asked, still a bit out of breath. He nodded. Inwardly, she smiled. She found his poor communication skills endearing in a way. Plus, it meant she never had to answer questions she didn't want to. So many people would pry into your business, your past... never him. She felt badly for that night in Vegas when she'd drunkenly asked him about Bitter Springs - it wasn't her place. If she wanted respect and distance from him, she had to do the same in return.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Boone's shout, "We've got company!" He raised his rifle, gesturing toward the valley just to their east. Apparently, by wandering off the road during the Legion attack, they had gotten too close to a cazador nest. The insects were already swarming over the hill, headed directly for them.

"Fuck!" she muttered under her breath, reloading as quickly as she could. Boone was already pelting the bugs with bullets. Her shoulder was throbbing; she cringed as she saw the blood dripping through the tear in her leathers. Injecting a stimpak deep into her upper arm, she raised her rifle and joined the fight.

The bugs swarmed faster than she had expected. They downed a half dozen, but soon the two of them were surrounded by flapping orange wings. Elaine darted sideways to close the distance between her and Boone, turning her back to him to shoot the creatures chasing after her. With a loud grunt, Boone kicked one away from her side as it attempted to stab at her with its stinger. Pulling out his combat knife, he impaled it to the ground.

She shot at a couple more, but they just kept coming. _Shit!_ Suddenly one slammed into her side, knocking her down hard. She tumbled backwards off down the hill. When she regained her footing, the remaining bugs were swarming around Boone. Kneeling, she tried her best to take them out without risking hitting him with a stray bullet. Once they were down to two enemies, she saw him drop to the ground, limp. "Boone!" she yelled, as the bugs turned to her. She killed the first with a well-placed headshot, but the second was on her in moments. It swiped her with its stinger, leaving a large scrape across her forearm above her pip-boy. The cut burned red-hot like fire, and she could feel the venom start to progress up her arm fast. Not able to aim her rifle at such close range, she dropped it and pulled the handgun out from her waistband. In a last ditch effort, she threw herself away and onto her back, unloading the clip as it lunged at her a second time. She closed her eyes as the last bullet fired... and heard the heavy thud of its body hit the ground next to her. _So close_. She was beginning to feel dizzy from the horrible burning sensation spreading into her chest. Still laying on the ground, she pulled a vial of antivenom from her bag and gulped it down. The stuff tasted like absolute shit, but it seemed to work quickly, only leaving behind a tingly sensation in her arm.

_Boone!_ She staggered to her feet, leaving her rifle where it lay as she ran over to him. Dropping to her knees next to his body, she saw that he was unconscious. She shook him, "Boone, wake up! Boone?" No response. "Oh no..." she scrambled in her bag, looking for another vial of antivenom.

Unable to find it, she let out a yell of frustration and turned the bag upside-down, dumping its contents all over the ground. _There!_ She grabbed a vial and moved to hold his head in her lap, pouring the viscous fluid down his throat. Slapping his face, she tried to rouse him, but he wouldn't wake. Desperately, she ripped off his chest piece, and sliced open his white undershirt, looking for wounds on his body. Finding two stings on his shoulders and one on his chest, she injected a stimpak near each one, hoping that would help. She put small bandages on each puncture, although they weren't bleeding heavily.

She touched his face, it was sweaty, but also cold. _What do I do? _She felt helpless - her basic first aid skills didn't seem to be doing any good. Searching the landscape around her, she could see the tower of a ranger station off in the distance, in front of the setting sun. _Maybe_ … she reached under his arms and tried to lift his weight. She could barely drag him a few feet without falling on her ass. _Fuck._ There was no way she could make it there. And she wasn't about to leave him here alone while she went to look for help. She was going to have to do this herself.

She moved him onto the bedroll, and draped a blanket over his body, trying to warm him. She thought about making a fire, but she was more worried that he hadn't woken up yet. _Maybe more antivenom_? She decided it couldn't hurt. The waiting was driving her mad. This time, when she propped him up against her, she thought she felt him move just a little. She tilted his head back and gave him another dose.

He coughed and groaned when the dark liquid hit his tongue. She exhaled, "Oh, _thank you._" She held his face while he swallowed roughly, making sure he didn't choke. She offered him a little water, which he drank more willingly. After a minute, he opened his eyes, and suddenly she was aware of how close they were. Her body tensed and her heart raced anew, but she didn't move. "You're okay," she said simply, looking down at his face in her lap.

Breathing deeply, he winced. "Uggh, if you say so." Then he looked around, "...where's my rifle?" He tried to sit up, but she pushed his chest back down. He wasn't really putting up much of a fight in this state. _The man nearly dies, and his first thought is of his rifle_. She laughed lightly, feeling relief flood over her. _I didn't even know I cared this much._

"I'll get it. You stay put." She returned to where the pile of dead cazadores lay, and found his rifle as well as hers just downhill. Stooping, she pulled his combat knife from the body of a cazador. Lastly, she scooped all the items she'd dumped from her bag back into place. She brought them all over, setting the weapons within his reach. She squatted next to him, "I don't know if we should move you yet. I think I'll make a fire. We can stay here for the night."

He nodded weakly, propping himself up on an elbow so he could watch the area while she collected dead cacti and scrub. She hadn't really ever been much for camping before... but she'd gotten quite used to it with him. Oddly enough, she actually found it comforting - the loneliness of the wastes. As long as it was just her and Boone, she didn't feel so much like she had to always be looking over her shoulder. She found a few Yucca plant fruits, returned, and lit a fire - setting them up reasonably comfortable for the night.

As they sat by the fire eating, she turned to him, "Well, at least we didn't get our asses handed to us by those Legion bastards. Took bugs for that."

In response, he only grunted gruffly, "Yeah." She thought maybe he was angry that he had gotten hurt. Not wanting to bother him, she quieted. Though she hadn't really paid it much mind while she was working frantically to save his life, she noted now that he looked awfully good without a shirt on. His upper body was toned, and the muscles in his broad shoulders and arms were well-defined. She scoffed inwardly at herself, _oh please, Elaine... What am I, a teenager again?_

After finishing his last yucca and tossing the core, he piped up, "I think I recognized that asshole with the coyote head. Pretty sure he was there when my wife died."

She stopped mid-bite, shocked. If she was tight-lipped about her past, he was like a locked vault. There was no penetrating it. _Why was he volunteering this information?_ She didn't know if she should take his statement as an invitation to ask about it or not.

_Hell, I just saved his life, how angry can he get with me?_ "How do you know she's dead?" _There, it was out there._

She expected him to snap at her that it wasn't her business. Or just glare at her. Instead, he continued looking at the fire. "I tracked them down on my own when I realized she was gone. Took about a day, but I found her. They were auctioning her off with a bunch of other slaves. Legion everywhere. All I had was my rifle .. and the distance." He tightened his jaw and swallowed.

Elaine now knew why he had spoken up a week or so ago when they'd freed the Powder Gangers from the Legion raid camp near Nipton. _Mercy killing,_ she remembered. _Only a last resort._ He didn't need to say any more, she knew what he meant, without him saying it. "Oh, _Boone_." She paused, trying to find the words, "You did the right thing."

"Did I?" She could tell by his tone that it wasn't really a question, so she didn't respond. Without a word, he lay back down on the bedroll, closing his eyes.

Sitting quietly across from him, she stared into the fire, watching slivers of light snake up and dissipate. The pieces of cacti let off tiny flakes of white ash. As she watched, they would float up, and then slowly drift away in the wind. They were pretty. She reached absentmindedly for a stick to poke the fire, looking for a distraction. A sharp pain in her shoulder reminded her angrily of her wound.

If it didn't smart like hell, she would have laughed. She'd been so worried about him, she'd completely forgotten about it. She peeked back over at him - asleep. Or at least, with his eyes closed. Turning away from him on the rock where she was sitting, she peeled off her leathers and shirt. Looking at her shoulder, there was caked blood dripped down to her elbow. She reached in her bag and retrieved a mostly clean rag and a bottle of water to clean the wound. It wasn't very deep... just had bled like hell. Stabbing herself with a med-x, she gingerly began stitching the gash.

The pain of the needle was grounding, temporarily distracting her from Boone's revelation. She wanted to tell him, _yes... of course you did the right thing_. She wanted to tell him _why_. God, did she ever know why. But she _couldn't_. At least not today. "Son of a bitch," she cursed under her breath. Doing her best to banish the thoughts, she focused on the warmth of the fire on her nearly bare back. After a while, she had finished closing her wound, and bandaged both it and her forearm. After slipping her shirt and leathers back on, she picked up her rifle and stood. She didn't mind taking first shift tonight. She didn't feel much like sleeping now.


	7. On Mercy

"Nelson is ours again, soldiers!" Sgt. Cooper shouted, kicking the body of the Legion decanus in triumph. The troops around him started to cheer, and Boone couldn't help but feel a sense of pride well up in him. Being here, helping the NCR again … it felt _right_. He was glad Elaine had been there to pull him out of the monotony that was Novac.

_Elaine._ He looked around - she wasn't at his side, like usual. _Where is she_?

After a moment of searching, he saw the back of her blonde head. She was on the platform in the center of the camp, not too far away. Jogging over to her, he found her sitting in the middle of the hostages who had been strung up on crosses by the Legion. Boone could see several empty syringes of med-x and used stimpaks lying about her. She'd been giving them first aid. The men were all badly bruised and beaten - most didn't look like they could even stand. They'd probably been interrogated and tortured, he knew. She was wrapping bandages delicately around one soldier's bloody hands and wrists, mangled when he was crucified.

"You're an angel," the man said to her, nearly unconscious from exhaustion and the drugs.

Boone could see pain in her eyes, but she was still calm. "You'll be just fine," she kept whispering to him tenderly.

As Boone stood there, a few other NCR soldiers arrived and began prepping the wounded to move them back to better medical facilities. He leaned down and tapped her shoulder, "I think they've got it from here."

She looked up at him, as if shaken from a daydream. "Y- Yeah. You're right." She stood, hands on her hips, looking around at the carnage. "Well this was a success."

Sgt. Cooper approached them, "Damn, you two are invaluable in a firefight. We might not have come through so well without you. Thanks for helping us out. I don't have anything much to offer, but make sure you take what you want off these Legion scum. It's the least we can do in return."

Boone saluted. Next to him, Elaine nodded with a weary smile. For a while, they scrounged for guns and ammo off the dead legionaries. Once their packs were full with items to sell for caps, they started out alone back towards Camp Forlorn Hope for the evening.

He glanced back over his shoulder at Nelson. The Legion had gotten too comfortable; they obviously hadn't known anyone was coming until too late. Boone had to admit, it felt good to take those bastards out. Even now, he still felt the adrenaline in his veins from the battle - he felt edgy, alert. Elaine hadn't said much, which was unusual. He broke the silence, saying the first thing that came to mind. "I'm glad you made it a priority to rescue those hostages." _The alternative_- … well, he didn't want to think of it.

She stopped walking and pulled off her sweat-soaked bandanna, letting her hair fall loosely around her face. She ran a hand through it, trying to pull out the knots. She looked tired - or maybe upset. "You're thinking about your wife again. Aren't you?"

He clenched his jaw, annoyed that she was right. Also, he was pissed at himself for essentially opening the door to her question. _What the hell did I say that for?_ He glared at her. _Why would she ask that, anyway?_ She was crossing an unspoken line between them. One that had been there since day one of their … whatever they were. She shouldn't be asking about his past.

She spoke again, "Boone, you shouldn't feel badly for what you did. That was the only thing you could have done. You _saved_ her. I know it probably doesn't feel like it, but you did."

He turned sharply, stepping forward into her face. "What the hell are you saying all this for? Do I ask you if you want to go back and visit a Legion slave camp for a while? Go see your old tormentors? Do I analyze your fear of men? Where do you get off on telling _me_ how to feel?"

He had purposefully chosen to get in her face - to push her buttons. More than anything, he wanted to shut her up. This was _not_ a conversation he wanted to be having. He expected her to be taken aback by his overt aggression. Instead, she balled her fists by her sides, and narrowed her eyes at him.

"Screw you, Boone. _You_ told me about your wife. But now you decide to close up and yell at me for caring about you? What do you want from me?"

"Nothing. Goddamn it! I don't need you to tell me what you think. You don't know shit." With this, he pointed a finger emphatically in her face. She promptly slapped his hand away - hard. He felt the blood rush to his face. _What the hell is her problem,_ he thought furiously._  
_

They stared angrily at each other in the hot afternoon sun. After a moment, Elaine spoke, with a level, controlled voice: "I know plenty, Boone."

He scoffed, so close to her that his exhale blew the hair out of her face. She blinked, but didn't move.

"I know what it's like to _not_ receive a mercy killing. You want to know what her life would have been, Boone? _I'll_ _tell_ _you_. I'll tell you _my_ story. I'd run away from my family's farm back west, because I was pregnant, and my father hated my boyfriend, Rick. Rick wanted to take me to New Vegas - we'd start anew, make our own lives. It would be an adventure." She tightened her jaw, holding back emotions. "I know, it was stupid... but I guess that's youth."

She stepped away from him, staring out to the east. To him, it almost looked like she was looking for something. "Our caravan got ambushed one night by a raiding party - no time to react. On my first day after we were captured, they crucified Rick in front of my cage. He died … over the course of several days. It was terrible," she shook her head. "I suppose I should be glad we got to say goodbye. In a way, he was lucky - that it was over for him quickly enough."

"I was raped. Kept in a cage, with a slave collar fitted tightly around my neck. When my baby came several months later-" she paused, drawing a ragged breath, "They took it from me. I never saw it again. Don't even know if it was a boy or a girl. I screamed for them to give it back, until they beat me unconscious. Over the next few days, I refused to eat. To punish me, they tied me to a pole naked and whipped my back raw."

Boone recalled the night when he'd been nearly killed by cazadors. He was pretty sure she didn't know it, but he'd seen her sewing up her wounded shoulder. Seen those scars. Her whole back had been crisscrossed with them. He'd guessed they were from the Legion, but knowing how she'd gotten them left him unbelievably shaken. "They poured liquor over the cuts. I guess to clean them…" she laughed wryly, "... in the most painful way possible. Each day I wouldn't eat - another beating."

She turned to him, looking broken, "I ate on the sixth day. But from then on, as far as I could tell you, I was dead." She snuffled, straining to hold back tears.

He stepped forward, reaching for her arm, ashamed of himself for making her share this. He understood why she was telling him - but it was too much. She allowed him to touch her, though she shook like a leaf. "Goddamn it... I'm sorry. Please- ..." He didn't want her to continue.

"No, you need to know. I should have told you before, maybe it would have helped." Her voice wavered as she spoke, "After that, they relegated me to heavy labor. I was essentially a brahmin, carrying loads from camp to camp endlessly. One day, on my way toward Fortification Hill, I saw a skeleton by the side of the path. Pretending to trip, I fell on it, searching for weapons. All I found was a small knife, but I managed to hide it. I was going to kill myself when I had the opportunity that night. More than anything, I just wanted to end it. And I would have, too."

"By some stroke of luck, that evening they removed my slave collar. I had a terrible infection on my neck where it had cut deep into my throat and the skin wouldn't heal. Bastards yanked me around by it all the time. Guess the legionaries escorting us were afraid I'd die on the trip, and they'd actually have to carry my load the rest of the way themselves. They bound my hands and tied me to a cactus for the night. With no collar to stop me, I cut my binds and ran."

She looked down to the river, "They set the dogs on me. One caught me, but not soon enough to stop me from falling over the edge of a crevasse, and tumbling down toward the river. Once I saw that water, I made a break for it. How I made it - I'll never know. As the river took me in its current, I passed out. Next I knew, I was on a cot in the Medical tent at a ranger station." She turned back to him with tear-stained cheeks, "I had made it. So- now, you know." He shook his head, at a loss for words.

"But," she paused, pulling her knife from its sheath on her thigh. "I don't kid myself. If I even think I'll be taken again... I'll end it. No way am I going back- … back to that." She pointed with the knife across the river. "I may have escaped once, but how many escaped legion slaves do you meet in the wastes? I know I'm not lucky enough to have lightning strike twice."

As he stood there, unable to find words, she sheathed her knife and looked up to meet his eyes. "I would want you to do the same for me, Boone. It really _is_ a mercy. I've thought about it a lot … since you told me. Please - _promise me_."

He felt a horrible wrenching in his gut - the thought of mercy killing anyone was awful enough. But to look at her, right there in front of him, asking him for this promise … he felt sick. "I won't let it happen."

"But if it _does_... please, Boone. I know I can count on you." She looked like she might start to cry again. He felt as if something inside him were breaking.

He shook his head, but eventually said, "If it comes to that, I'll take care of it."

She let out a ragged sigh, "Thank you." And for the first time, she hugged him. He wrapped his arms loosely around her, not wanting her to feel trapped in his embrace. He leaned his head down, smelling the slight floral scent of her hair.

In that moment, he closed his eyes, making a silent promise. _I won't let it come to that. Never_.


	8. On Dinosaurs

A/N: Thanks for all the additional favs and alerts, everyone! And, of course, big thanks to all the reviewers! This chapter is a little lighter fare, we'll get back into the meat 'n potatoes very soon.

* * *

As they headed south, they made a point to avoid Novac on the horizon. Even if the folks there didn't know for sure that they'd killed Jeannie May Crawford, Elaine knew it had to look pretty suspect that they'd split town on the very same night the woman had died. Of course, that meant that they had to take a longer route - further east and off the roads. It was more tiresome terrain, but still manageable. As long as it kept them out of Manny's sights from the vantage point in the dino, Elaine felt like it was a worthwhile precaution.

"Do you ever take your beret off?" Elaine asked Boone idly as she trudged along.

"No." He grunted as he kicked at a tumbleweed that had bumped into his leg. His foot crunched into the dried plant, and it ended up stuck on his leg. "Son of a bitch," he grumbled as he stopped and tried to shake it off.

She couldn't help but laugh. "Big tough NCR guy, being attacked by a dead plant."

He scoffed and finally dislodged the offending weed, continuing on ahead of her. He'd been pretty quiet since she'd said she wanted to go and clear out Cottonwood Cove. He hadn't said what was bothering him, if anything. She knew better than to ask when he was like this. Of course, thinking about attacking the Legion made her uneasy too, but that just made her want to talk. To get her mind off it. He wasn't so chatty - he just closed up and brooded. It didn't seem to affect his abilities as a spotter, so it wasn't worth bothering him about, she figured.

After climbing over the next ridge, they sighted an old abandoned house. As was their usual routine, they headed over to scavenge for anything of value. It was a boring way to spend the afternoon, but it was necessary if they were going to keep themselves stocked and fed.

Since he got there first, Boone took point and stepped inside. _Snap._ Behind him, Elaine's breath caught in her throat at the sound of a tripwire. "Fuck!" he cursed and shoved them both backwards away from the door as a bouquet of grenades dropped to the floor with a 'tink.' He rolled over her just as the explosion burst from within the building.

A flash of heat washed over them, and shrapnel zinged through the air above. She coughed roughly at the dirt thrown in her face by the explosion. The weight of him bearing down on her chest didn't help much, either. She was surprised at herself for not feeling panicked at it, though. His face only inches from hers, she could see him suddenly become aware of their proximity. Before she even had a chance to say anything, he climbed off her and to his feet, quickly stepping away and shaking off dust.

"Are you alright?" she asked. Without waiting for his response, she moved behind him to check for any wounds. There was a shallow gash on the back of his neck. She leaned against his shoulders to get a better look at the cut, pulling the neck of his shirt down a bit.

He shrugged her off, "I'm fine." Shaking his head at his own carelessness, "Shouldn't have tripped that wire. Stupid."

"It's not like I haven't done that before," she said forgivingly. He always seemed to give himself such a hard time. "Stop being so damn difficult, Boone. You got nicked by some shrapnel. Sit." She thought he might get irritated with her for chiding him like a child, but he quieted and obliged. He sat on a rock by the house, and she cleaned the debris from the scrape, injected a stimpak, and put in a few stitches to ensure it closed properly.

Once he was all bandaged up, he nodded in thanks and stood. This time they stepped very cautiously through the open door of the house, scanning around for any other traps. Fortunately, there were none. "Looks good now," she noted. "Let's hope there's something worthwhile in here."

The old house was essentially barren - almost no furniture. It appeared as though no one had lived there in years. Boone pocketed some caps and pre-war money from the kitchen counter and then moved to a gun cabinet in the corner. She found a First Aid station and a couple old irradiated pre-war snacks, but nothing really worth much. "Damn," she sighed to herself. It would've been nice if they'd found a something good to sell.

The blast had overturned a table in one corner; she dragged it out of the way. Behind it was a waist-high bookcase against the wall. As was usually the case, it was home to about a dozen pre-war books, ruined beyond any hope of use.

Reaching out, she tried to pick one up. _Maybe it's still readable on the inside?_ she wondered. As soon as she touched it, though, it disintegrated into a pile of flaky dust. She regarded it for a moment, sadly. _All of these books - lost. What had they contained? No one would ever know_. It seemed a terrible waste.

When she was younger, her father would yell at her for spending time reading, rather than working the farm. 'That stuff ain't important - keepin' the farm running is, Elaine!' She scoffed to herself. He had yelled at her about a lot of things. Books. Boys. Getting knocked up. Being a dreamer. 'Your goddamn head's always in the clouds!' he'd shout. She had to admit he'd done right by her at least some, though. He made sure she could shoot a rifle. Keeping the coyotes and all away from the brahmin was hard work - everyone had to pitch in. If it weren't for all those years of shooting practice, she'd probably be long dead by now. _Thanks dad,_ she thought with an inward laugh.

Returning from her reverie, her eyes re-focused on the destroyed books. Suddenly her mind strayed back to a familiar distraction, "Hey Boone - what's a dinosaur?"

He was rummaging through boxes of ammunition in the gun cabinet in the opposite corner. "Huh?"

"That big-ass thing in Novac. You spent every night up there. What the hell is it? I've never seen one."

He looked at her, visibly amused. "Are you serious?"

She felt a little bit hurt, "Sure. Why not?"

He lightened up a little, squatting to sift through the contents of a metal box. "I don't know. Some animal I guess. Maybe it was just made up. Doesn't seem very realistic to me."

She mused, "Cliff said it was a 'tyrannosaur.' I wonder if that's a kind of dinosaur, or if a dinosaur is a kind of tyrannosaur."

Boone stared back up at her with a blank look on his face.

She felt the need to explain, "You know, like a cazador is a bug. Or a mantis is a bug. Not the other way around." And now, she felt like a rambling idiot.

He scrunched his brow at her in disbelief.

She made a displeased grunt at the look on his face. "Well, didn't you ever wonder what the hell a dinosaur was? After all that time in Novac?"

"No."

"Well, you _should_ have." She said, utterly embarrassed. "I just think it would be interesting to know. I wish all these damn books weren't burned and ruined." She kicked the corner of the bookcase. Looking over the shelves one final time, she wistfully added, "Maybe one of them would've been about dinosaurs."

For the first time all day, Boone smiled. "If I knew you liked them so much, I would've picked up one of the toy ones for you before we left Novac."

She turned back, sticking out her tongue. "Ass."

They finished scavenging, and left the house, continuing on their way south. After a while, he turned to her, "You know, those Brotherhood kooks are always gathering information and history. I guess I never thought much of it. Maybe next time we're over there, you could ask. They might know something about dinosaurs."

She glanced sideways at him to see if he was still poking fun. He shrugged, as if to say, _See? I'm not so bad._

"Wow... that's a good idea," she smiled.

_Maybe he wasn't._


	9. An Apple a Day

Elaine sat heavily, leaning against the sign at the entrance to Cottonwood Cove. Boone bent to put a brace on her twisted and mangled ankle. They'd cleared out the cove nearly perfectly - sniping half the fools from a distance before progressing down the road and cleaning up the scraps. They would have come through completely unscathed if that Legion dog hadn't gotten the jump on her while she was freeing the slaves. It met its end pretty quickly, but not before it latched onto her leg. _Damn, I hate those mongrels._

Watching him work, she wondered about Boone. She'd been pretty sure she'd seen a hint of a smile on his face when they'd finished clearing the cove. He occasionally would lighten up, but it was still like he couldn't let himself be happy for more than a moment. From the beginning, he'd always been that way. '_This isn't going to end well,' _he'd said when he first agreed to join her. She had begun to understand why he'd said it - he thought he was bad luck- … or something like that. She knew it had to do with what happened at Bitter Springs. It seemed pretty irrational to her. At least his demeanor had softened considerably since their confrontation near Nelson.

Trying to get her mind off the throbbing pain from her ankle, she recalled the previous night. They'd made camp up on the hills above the cove. During her watch, she had noticed that he'd tossed and turned nearly all night. There were bags under his eyes now - she wasn't sure if he'd slept at all. "Did you have nightmares last night?"

"Yeah. Couldn't sleep."

"Bitter Springs?" she asked. Boone had told her that he thought about it all the time. '_Even when I sleep_.' She knew what it was like to not be able to escape something, to be haunted by it …

He glanced up, eyeing her. After a moment, "Yeah."

She asked quietly, "Do you think it would help to go back there?" She figured she wouldn't upset him _too_ much by asking.

She could tell from his voice that he was mildly annoyed. "Does it help _you_ to be here? To see that they keep taking slaves and killing people?"

"Maybe. To be able to free the slaves here helped, I think."

He sighed, losing the defensive tone. "No. I don't want to go back. It won't change anything. And that's a memory I don't want refreshed."

They were both silent for a moment. Finally, she asked, "Is it because of Bitter Springs that you think you've got bad things coming?"

This time, he didn't look up from his work. "Life has a way of punishing you for the mistakes you make. Big enough mistake, punishment can take a while. Mine's not over."

She wasn't convinced, "Don't you think people can make up for their mistakes?"

"A murderer who does good deeds is still a murderer. And he'll still get his judgment. I left the NCR when my tour was up. Had enough of war. Decided I was gonna start over. None of it made a difference in the end."

"How could you know that?" she asked as he finished up wrapping her ankle and slid her boot back on.

"Because I'm still alive." He stood, and reached out to help her up. She didn't move a muscle. Instead, she only glared back at him.

"So, I guess I should just take you back to Novac, then? Let you rot, waiting for some unseen force to strike you down? Because you're apparently more interested in seeing this stupid justice through than helping me out."

He narrowed his eyes, dropping the hand to his side. "What?"

"I've been watching your back, doing my best to keep up _my_ end of this-... our partnership. Now, with you saying this shit, I don't know if I can count on you to do the same. If you're really dead-set on dying, maybe we shouldn't continue together. I need backup - not someone looking for the nearest sword to fall on."

She grunted and stood, limping away up the hill. Boone shouted after her, "I'm not trying to 'fall on a sword,' or whatever bullshit you just said!"

"Yes you are, Boone. You're trying to take personal responsibility for something … something that a lot of people are responsible for. I know you feel terrible. But that won't change it. Nothing can. Isn't dedicating yourself to doing good a stronger action than sulking and cursing yourself?" She hissed as her foot slipped sideways in a crack in the pavement, twisting her hurt ankle. She looked over her shoulder, "Do something. Make things better. If you're interested - I'll be in the sniper's nest, trying to open that goddamn box." She hobbled up the road away from him, leaving him standing alone.

* * *

As Elaine climbed up and over the rocky hill to get to the sniper's nest, she wouldn't allow herself to look back down at the cove. It had to be _his_ choice. As much as she hoped he'd show up - as much as she _wanted_ him here with her - she couldn't force him to change.

Finally reaching the makeshift shelter, she dropped down on her ass in front of the mysterious container. She'd found it a couple weeks ago, when they'd first come to scout out the area. She hadn't been able to open it then. Distractions had kept them from returning until today. She had promised him they'd come kill the legionaries.

And now, she'd left him.

Rummaging through her bag for bobby pins, she wondered if it was cruel to leave him there - she knew he was deeply conflicted. She had come to care about him, more so than she'd cared about anyone in a long time. It felt wrong to be here alone. Though he rarely spoke much, it still felt unnervingly quiet without him around.

She shook off the thoughts, and focused on picking the lock. The bobby pin snapped almost instantly. She groaned and started again; soon she had ruined a dozen pins. She let out a frustrated sigh and flopped onto her back. Looking up at the clouds, she knew it would probably rain later - maybe this evening. _Where am I going to find shelter?_ Hiding in a cave or old shack by herself suddenly seemed very unappealing. She could stay here overnight, but eventually, she'd have to leave.

After a while, she felt footfalls coming her way. She sat upright, grabbing her rifle. The steps closed in, and Boone walked into view, holding his hands up in mock surrender. She fought to hold back a grin, trying her damnedest to give him a serious glare. She was not willing to just accept him back because he made a lame joke. _No matter how funny it had been_.

He sat down nearby, "I thought more about what you said. I think maybe you're right. Maybe I should go to Bitter Springs. I don't know what I'm hoping to find there. I guess I don't know if I believe in … making up for my mistakes. But, if you believe it, then I'll give it a try. I owe you that much."

To hear him say this, well, it felt … she wasn't sure. But it touched her that he would do it for her. "Okay. We'll start out in a bit." She grabbed another bobby pin, and broke it off inside the lock. "Fuuuuck," she groaned, dropping her face into her hands.

"Here, this might help," Boone said, reaching into his bag. He pulled out a ratty magazine - _Locksmith's Reader_. She took it from him, glancing at the cover. "I know you're are always picking up books and stuff, so I grabbed that one for you a few days ago. Seems relevant."

Slowly, she began looking it over. Her farm girl education didn't leave her with the best reading skills. And some of these words... a lot of it was far too technical for her. She looked up to see if Boone was watching her struggle, but he was already off by the edge of the cliff, ever vigilant.

Looking at one of the diagrams, she started to comprehend which part each of the fancy words was referring to. _If I tilt a pin upwards to hit that mechanism, maybe I can reach in with a second to push in the further springy thing?_ She picked up a couple new pins and attempted to pry the lock again. This time, she could feel the second pin hit its objective, and with a slight twist, she heard it click. Feeling like a genius, she swung the trunk open. "Ohhh, look at this! It's beautiful."

Boone turned, and she could see his face light up instantly. The golden camouflage painted on the sniper rifle was perfect, like nothing she'd seen. Even more so than the rifle, she had to marvel at how fitting it was to find this here - now. It was like fate had determined that she was meant to open that lock at this very moment. Laying the gun flat in her palms, she held it up to Boone. "Try it out."

He took it, methodically adjusting the sights and then fussing over each and every possible inch of it. She waited patiently … finally he raised the scope to his eye, looking out across the river. Then he turned and sighted downhill toward the cove. He fired a shot, loud and clean. The echo returned soon, and he looked back down the sight. Judging by his expression of approval, she knew he must have hit his mark. "Nice."

She smiled, "It's yours, you know."

He eyed the rifle. "We could sell this for a shitload of caps. You don't see one like it everyday."

She laughed, "Please Boone. We'll find caps. I couldn't take that gun from you. It's like you were made for each other. If only you could see your face."

He cracked a smile, "Thanks." She started to get up, but he put his hand on her shoulder, stopping her.

"No, you should stay off that ankle until tomorrow. We won't make any time with you hobbling like an old lady anyway. We'll head out in the morning." She nodded; he was right.

After he injected a stimpak into her ankle, they sat together for a while, looking out over the river. "Elaine?" The way he said her name- she abruptly realized how much she liked it. _God, am I falling for this guy?_ she wondered. They'd been together everyday for … jeez, at least a few months now. She wasn't sure how long anymore. He was _definitely_ attractive... and-

Boone's gravelly voice interrupted her thoughts, "Hey. You there?"

She turned, feeling her cheeks flush, "Sorry... thinking about- … stuff. What is it?"

He turned to his pack, and fished out a red beret. She glanced up to his head and noted his was still in its usual place. "If you want, you can wear this." She looked at it, unsure of why he was doing this. "In 1st Recon, it was just you and your partner - no one else to rely on. The red beret was always an easy way to keep an eye on him. You've been looking out for me. Maybe I just didn't notice it before. I can watch your back in a fight better with it."

She took the hat from him, turning it over in her hands. "Should I really be wearing it if I'm not in the NCR?"

"I'm not either, anymore. You've done more for them than most soldiers. It's alright." She ran her fingers over the patch on the side. It was a little worn. Any other girl might have wanted a bouquet of flowers or jewelery, but this- … she couldn't think of anything that would have touched her more.

She pulled off her bandanna, noting as he glanced at her scar. Oddly it didn't bother her, like it did when other people noticed it. "Does it look that bad?"

He leaned over, brushing her hair away to examine it closer. His touch - it made her feel absolutely electric. _Oh god... _she was sure she must be blushing again. "Nah. Just looks like you got shot in the head by an idiot who'd never held a gun before." His rough fingers brushed her cheek as he removed his hand, sending a shiver down her spine. "You can't even see it when your hair's down."

Trying her best to distract herself from how hot she felt, she pulled on the beret. Cocking her head to the side with an eyebrow raised goofily: "Well?"

He chuckled, then reached over and turned it a bit so it was on straight. Leaning back to appraise her, he said finally, "Looks good."

She burst out in a smile, "Thanks, Boone."

* * *

With dinner, she produced some fresh apples that she had found earlier in the week. At the time, she had decided they were too rare and precious - that she should save for an exceptionally good day. Today, she decided, qualified as _just that_.

Later, when she settled down to sleep on the bedroll, the clouds broke and rain finally began to fall. Boone stood with a start over by the edge of the cliff where he had been sitting. Cradling his rifle to protect it from the rain, he jogged over to the shelter. It was of moderate size, but because of a partially collapsed roof, only a small portion was protected from the rain. She saw him hesitate and stop, not wanting to enter. _For my sake_, she knew.

She scoffed, "Don't be silly. Come here." Stepping inside, he squatted down and sat beside her, with his back turned. She closed her eyes, relaxing her sore muscles. The rain made a pleasant sound on the tin roof - kind of like a bunch of bullet casings being shaken in a can.

_What kind of girl comes up with an analogy like that?_


	10. Patience is Bitter

Boone unslung his pack, turning back to Elaine, "I'd like to stay for the night. Think some things over."

"Sure, we can do that." She stood next to him, looking off toward Bitter Springs aloofly. Despite her behavior, he knew she was watching him, concerned.

"Alright. We won't stay for long." He pulled out his rifle - their unspoken signal that he'd take the first watch.

* * *

Boone sat by the fire, looking out over Canyon 37. Elaine lay on the bedroll nearby, her back to him. He was pretty sure she wasn't asleep; he wondered what she was thinking about. _She's probably staying up wondering what's going through _my_ head_, he realized. If anyone had pried into his life like this before he'd met her, he would have … he wasn't sure. Probably would've knocked them out. But her … he was starting to find a hell of a lot of comfort in knowing that she cared.

He reached into his pocket, finding the note he'd written Carla just over two years ago. The one he wanted her to have if he'd died. He began to read it, not really needing to look at the handwriting on the paper, he knew it so well:

_Carla,_

_If you're reading this, then you know. Sorry. Wanted to make it back home to you._

_The pension won't be much, but it'll help you and the baby get by. Want you to remarry when you meet the right person. Don't want you to have to be on your own._

…

He stopped reading and lowered his hand with an exhale. He did still love Carla. He knew he always would. But that felt … well it felt _okay_, now. Like it was just a part of him. He wasn't big on words, he didn't care much to try and label it. Looking over to Elaine, he considered his own feelings for her. In the past, those feelings had been tempered by guilt. More than anything, he didn't want what happened to Carla to happen to her, too. But now, it was becoming more difficult to avoid thinking of her. _Wanting her_.

On that night when she'd saved his life after the cazador attack, he had opened his eyes to find himself a drink of water ... but instead had seen her across from him. He was transfixed. He knew he shouldn't be watching without her knowing, but it was like he _couldn't_ take his eyes off her. Observing her small form illuminated by the light of the fire, he admired how she didn't flinch when she stitched herself up.

Despite the scars, his eyes had devoured the lean feminine curves of her back and neck, her slender arms, her long hair draped over her shoulder. There was no denying what it was that he had felt. But at that point, he'd felt shamed at the same time for lusting after her. Not really because she was another woman. Mostly it was because he felt he would just hurt her by loving her. But now ... well, he still wasn't sure. After what she'd said at Cottonwood Cove, he wanted to take the plunge and just say fuck it, but... he still didn't know if he could let himself.

He looked back down to the note one final time. Turning his hand over, he released it into the fire. As it burned, it curled and folded in on itself over and over, until it was just a tiny ball of ash.

He reached behind him, carefully grabbing another piece of dead cactus to burn. Normally he wouldn't keep the fire going all night, but they were so close to Bitter Springs, there really was no danger in it. It was just about the only comfortable thing about being in this place. He leaned back and stretched his legs out in front of him, keeping his feet warm by the fire.

As his eyes moved over the landscape, he recalled the conflict he felt when carrying out his orders. '_Shoot anything that moves_.'The sting of regret was still there, but it seemed further away, dulled. In his mind, the closest thing he could liken it to was when you break a bone. It never feels the same again, but ... it does heal. He was genuinely surprised at how different he felt from the last time he was here. _Distinctly different_. He wasn't sure if that was a sign that Elaine was right - or just another bad omen.

* * *

It was well past time for Elaine to take over watch, but Boone let her rest. Being here, he knew he wouldn't sleep anyway. Better to let her get some. He looked absentmindedly over at her; she was still laying on her side, with her back to the fire. In her hands, she held the beret he'd given her. He had come across it in the bottom of his bag that day at the cove, and it just felt like she should have it. She and he were partners, after all. Regarding her, it was hard for him to remember what those first nights together were like - how she'd always sleep with her back to a wall and with a gun in her hand. Things were so different now.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sighted movement in the distance. Standing, he looked down his scope. _Legion_._ Shit. _He felt a sense of dread rise in him. _Maybe this _is_ it._ He stepped over to Elaine and reached down, touching her shoulder. "Hmm?" she woke with a start.

"Something's wrong. Got a group coming our way. I think it's a Legion raiding party. It's _big_." She sat up, swiftly gathering her rifle from the ground next to her. He continued to grip her shoulder, and she looked up at him, confused. He knew what he thought was coming. Looking at her, he suddenly felt guilty for bringing her here. "Might be _too_ big. Even for us."

"What?" she looked incredulous.

"I'm going to stay, see if I can hold them off. Protect the camp. I can't ask you to do the same."

"Boone, I'm not going anywhere." She picked up the red beret and pulled it onto her head and checked her rifle's chamber, as if punctuating the sentence. "This just means we don't have to go to the trouble of finding them."

Despite his own trepidation, he couldn't help but smile at her words. As they moved out, he slapped her lightly on the back, "That's my girl." _Wait, had he said that? Out loud? Shit._ He didn't look behind him to see her reaction - he wasn't sure what to expect from her. Instead, he just picked up a jog to intercept the Legion.

* * *

When it was all over, he stood in the midst of Bitter Springs, breathing heavily. Bodies of legionaries and their dogs were strewn all around him. The attack had been well-planned, and there were far more enemies than he had expected. He was honestly surprised to still be standing. He turned, looking for Elaine, but didn't see her. "Elaine?" he called, trying to not let himself panic. There was no response. Ducking under the support ropes of a refugee tent, he moved toward the center of the camp. "Elaine?" His eyes moved over the ground from body to body, searching with dread for her small form.

_Shit, if I've done this to her..._ "Elaine!" he shouted with much more urgency.

"Boone!" he finally heard her grunt back. Pinpointing the source of her voice, he saw that she was collapsed with her back against the side of a tent, underneath some Khan graffiti. In front of her lay a pile of three dead legionaries. He ran over, kneeling in front of her.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice cracking with concern. He reached for her face, lifting up her sagging chin.

"I-" she coughed raggedly, "I- can't … breathe..." Another wet cough. "I think I'm hit."

He looked down at her chest. It was a dark moonless night, but he could tell there was a puncture in her armor. Blood dripped freely down her chest from the wound. "Shit!" He reached around her, lifting her in his arms. She groaned, struggling for breath. He ran with her uphill toward the medical tent, taking the steps two at a time.

"Boone- … oh fuck," she coughed up blood, "stop shaking me..." and then she passed out, going limp as he ran.

"We need help here! Now!" he barked at Lieutenant Markland as he raced into the doctor's tent and set her on the nearest examining table.

Markland appraised her and immediately went into action. He ripped off her chest armor, and started cutting away her undershirt. Boone winced, looking away. She would not like this. _If she lived_. _Fuck_. He felt suddenly very sick. Trying to hold back his nausea, he doubled over, gripping the tent support pole next to him. Without looking back he asked, "You need anything, Doc?" Behind him, he could hear the doctor roll a medical cart over to her with the metallic rattle of surgical tools.

"No, soldier … I just need time." After a pause, "Looks like a bullet... probably lodged in her lung. Just wait outside, I don't need you revisiting your dinner in here. I'll do my best. Afterwards, I'll come find you."

Boone did as asked, stepping outside the medical tent. He felt helpless. All he could do was pace back and forth by the fire. Waiting for over an hour, he fought to block his mind from thinking about her. _Bleeding to death_. He prayed that this Doc Markland was good. A few of the soldiers came by to thank him for his help, and a refugee offered him some food. He didn't want any of it, dismissing them curtly. He was no help to anyone. _If she dies..._

* * *

"Sir?" Markland tapped him on the shoulder.

"Is she alright?" Boone asked anxiously, turning to face the man.

"She's going to be just fine, soldier." Boone didn't wait for him to say anything else. He immediately entered the tent to go see her. The lieutenant followed, explaining further, "The bullet was lodged in her lung, like I'd suspected. Lucky her armor slowed it down. I've got her all stitched up. Really very minimal damage. She'll need to take it easy for a few days, but she should make a quick and full recovery."

Boone stood by Elaine, examining her. She'd already been bandaged up, and the Doc had put a blanket over her for modesty and warmth. Other than being a bit pale, she just looked like she was asleep. "When will she wake?"

Markland was finishing up bandaging another soldier, who had been brought in with a machete wound to his side. "Should be pretty soon. Surgery was fast, didn't need to knock her out much. You can wait, as long as you stay out of the way."

Boone nodded. He sat next to her for a while, just absorbing the fact that she was going to live. He noticed something red on the floor - her beret. It must have fallen off her head when he'd brought her in, he realized. He picked it up, and stood to lay it next to her. Leaning over her, he saw that she still had some dried blood on her face. He reached into his bag, getting something to clean her up with. Wiping it from her cheek and lips, he was struck by how delicate she looked. _Why had he brought her here?_ _If she hadn't been here with him, this wouldn't have happened to her._

His heart filling with emotion, he touched her face, feeling her warm cheek under his hand. She roused at his touch, groaning. Opening her eyes, she squinted at the light hanging over her head. She reached up and felt her bandaged chest gingerly, "Shit. I'm not dead?"

Markland moved quickly to her side, checking her wrist for her vitals, "You got lucky."

She winced, her eyes heavy and unfocused from all the drugs. "Always with this luck thing. I've gotta stop doing that." She turned to Boone at her side, "So how many did we get?"

He shook his head, "Way more than I thought we could. We made it through after all. Not sure what to think about that."

"Hah," she blinked slowly, "I wasn't going to let you die."

He felt overwhelmed with emotion, but also confused. "I don't mean disrespect. It's a hell of a thing having someone with your ability looking out for me. But I've come to believe that there are things nobody can stop. I thought for sure that's what we'd finally come up against today. It would've made sense for things to end here. But now ... I'm still waiting."

Even with her all drugged up, he noted the same annoyed look rise to her face. She grew serious, despite slightly slurred words. "Goddamn it, Boone. No one is judging you." Markland glanced up, realizing he was in the middle of a private conversation and silently excused himself to the other side of the tent.

After he'd gone, Boone replied bitterly, "If that's how it is, there's not a lot of comfort in knowing it."

"Bad things happen; good things happen. That stuff isn't under our control. But you've got to realize what's happened to you isn't a punishment. It's just life." She reached up and touched his face, brushing off dirt he didn't know was there. He saw something powerful in her eyes - _affection_. There was no doubt. It had been so long since anyone had looked at him like that. "Hasn't _anything_ good happened to you since Bitter Springs?" Elaine asked finally.

He could think of two things. _Two people - Carla... and her_. Shit, he couldn't say that. _Look at her! She could've died. Because of me_. Instead, he pushed her hand away and and turned to the side. He wanted her to touch him, he wanted so much from her, but he just was too afraid to let it happen. He couldn't let himself be the reason that something bad happened to her again. He was so fucking frustrated. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do about all this."

In his periphery, he could see a hurt expression on her face for a second, but she quickly masked it with seriousness again. "You can't take back what you've done. But your regrets can set you on a better path."

"I guess they brought us here. One less Legion raiding party running loose now. Never a bad thing, but I guess you know that. Still sorta feels like I'm living on borrowed time. I don't know. Maybe we all are. No matter- I don't see any reason not to take a lot more of those sons of bitches with me. You got a point. There's still some things I can do before all this is over."

Saying nothing, she just turned away from him and closed her eyes. He knew she was angry with him - for closing up again. Maybe he was being stubborn. _But wasn't that worth it? To keep her safe? _Not knowing anything else to do or say, he stepped out of the tent, nodding at the Doc to let him know he was through. _Shit. _What the hell was he supposed to do with all this? Sleep deprived and both mentally and physically exhausted, all he _could_ do was slouch down by the tent's entrance and put his face in his hands.


	11. But it Bears Sweet Fruit

A/N: The title of the previous chapter and this one combine to form a Turkish proverb:

_Patience is bitter, but it bears sweet fruit._

Thanks to everyone who has left reviews for the last few chapters... I love getting your feedback!

* * *

Elaine's injury had healed quickly with bed rest, but boy did laying around make her antsy. After the second day, she promised Markland that she'd take it easy on their way back to New Vegas, and he reluctantly agreed to let her go. Boone would do all the shooting, she assured him. A female nurse had looked up from sorting syringes, "Wish I had a first recon guy looking after me," she sighed wistfully. All Elaine could do was shake her head in frustration.

It had taken them a week to hoof it back up to McCarran. Since the battle, she hadn't tried to speak to him about what had been said between them. It just seemed too difficult - she'd already tried to convince him to let all that shit go, and it hadn't worked.

She realized that this happened a lot with them - some big fight or revelation, and then it took them a while to come to terms with it. She could almost laugh - _what a healthy relationship, right_? After Cottonwood Cove, she had thought there was something between them, but maybe she had been wrong. Probably just misread him. It was pretty goddamn easy to do sometimes, what with his... intermittent style of communication.

At least it seemed like they'd settled back into their old partnership - getting things done cleanly and effectively on their way back through New Vegas. She knew she should be pleased with that in itself. Maybe she had been wrong to want more. Maybe it would have ruined what they had, anyway. She should just be glad to have him around, really. _Right_? It had been enough before. Why did things have to change?

Her whole body felt heavy with exhaustion. Entering the tent the NCR had put them up in at McCarran, she dropped her bag with a dull _thunk_ on the ground. Of course, the NCR had only done them this favor after she and Boone had hunted down the leaders of the Fiends... but _beggars can't be choosers_, she reminded herself. Reaching in her pocket she retrieved the handful of NCR bills that had been her reward for the head of Driver Nephi. She scoffed softly, tossing them to Boone as he followed her into the tent.

It dawned on her how unusual it was that they shared money like this. Sure, they'd earned it together. And, well, they were spending it together, too. Also, It would be a huge pain in the ass to split their earnings. But even with all those excuses... she was pretty sure that wasn't how mercs worked. Or... well, anyone. Ever. Except married couples, of course. He'd never said anything about it. Did he think about this stuff? About them? It sure felt like she thought about it all the time these days.

She rummaged in her pack to find her cleanest clothing - not actually clean, but it was better than what she had on. She could hear Boone setting his bag down behind her. She sighed, "I'm gonna go get washed up. I think the NCR owes me a shower."

"I may go see some people. I'll be around," he replied. She assumed he meant the 1st Recon folks, or some other soldiers he had served with. She was too tired to bother him with questions.

She slipped back out through the tent flap, and headed for the showers she'd seen in the concourse. _God it would be so fucking nice to not be coated in Mojave dust_.

* * *

Breathing in the steam, she felt more relaxed than she had in a while. Really _hot_ water. That was a rarity in the wastes. It was enough to make a girl consider signing up for the NCR, she chuckled to herself. Looking down at her chest, she lightly touched the pink scar above her breast, where she'd been shot. Shot _again_, she corrected herself. It didn't even hurt anymore, really. The bruising around the wound was mostly gone, too. She remembered back when she was young, and she had gotten her first scar. She and her brother had been wrestling in the loft of the barn, and she'd fallen down to the ground level, slicing her calf open on a fencepost. She'd worried so much about the scar. It was so _ugly_. Boys would never like her. It was practically the end of the world. _How things have changed for me,_ she thought. _Now I have more scars than I can count._

She reached forward, turning off the water reluctantly. Standing there a few moments, she focused on the remaining droplets of water slowly snaking their way down her legs. Plans for the next day ran through her mind. Finally, Elaine pulled aside the curtain and grabbed her towel from its hook. She walked over to the lockers where she'd left her change of clothes on a bench.

Nearby, Corporal Betsy emerged from a further bank of lockers, and stopped when she saw her. "Shit... what happened to your back?"

Elaine froze, realizing her towel didn't cover her scars. She turned to the other woman, feeling slightly violated by her query, but not wanting to show it. "Legion," she said simply.

"Damn." Betsy replied. "Hey, I wanted to thank you for- … for convincing me to get some help. I'm..." she shrugged, "well, I guess I'm doing better."

"Glad to hear it. I'm no head doctor, but dealing with that kind of trauma, well... it takes a while."

Betsy motioned to her scarred back, "You ever get over that?"

"Honestly? No. I guess you just learn to live with it."

After a moment, "I still wish it was me who'd killed that motherfucker Cook-Cook, though. No offense."

"None taken. If it's you who kills the assholes who did this to me," she pointed over her shoulder at her back, "then I won't lose any sleep over it."

Betsy nodded and left the room, leaving Elaine alone to finish getting dressed. _At least I helped _someone_ with their trauma, _she sighed.

She buttoned up her shirt, noting it was missing the top button. This was her favorite shirt. She wondered idly if she could find a replacement button to match the others. She made sure to gather the shampoo she'd stolen from the Lucky 38, stuffing it into her pants pocket, and headed back out of the concourse.

* * *

The cool night air outside was a refreshing contrast to the stuffiness inside. She saw Boone straight ahead of her, looking more relaxed than usual, talking casually with an MP. She decided to give him some space. It probably was pretty tiresome for him to only have her to talk to most of the time. She turned right, walking slowly along the building and then the wall of the compound back toward their tent.

She ruffled her wet hair, trying to help it dry, and looked up at the sky. _Stars_, she thought. Her mind wandered to the solar system model at REPCONN headquarters. It was beautiful. She didn't really understand much about it - space, planets, stars - but it seemed an awfully nice distraction from the world they lived in. _Must have been wonderful to live in the Pre-War world_, she mused. _To have the luxury to think of stars_. She wondered if she could find a book about them at the Crimson Caravan. She'd already asked the merchant there to look out for one on dinosaurs. When she'd asked at the Brotherhood of Steel they'd scoffed and informed her that they were only interested in 'useful' information. _Head in the clouds, again, Elaine._ Really - who was she kidding? She didn't have time to read a book. Hell, she sucked at reading, anyways. Knowing more about the stars or dinosaurs wouldn't help them stop the Legion.

"Whatcha doin', sweetcheeks?" Elaine was startled out of her thoughts by a voice directly behind her. _Fuck_. Why had she allowed herself to get so distracted? She tensed and prepared to spin around to face the voice, but the man had already wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her tight.

"Let me go asshole!" she pushed at him, but he grabbed her arms and shoved her to the wall. He was NCR, and from the smell of his breath, completely drunk.

"Aww jeez baby, thass no way to behave. I juss wanna have a good time with you, thass all," he muddled his words together, leaning in for a kiss.

"Fucking let go!" Panic was rising in her chest, her breathing erratic and her voice shrill. She couldn't wrest her wrists from his grip. She kicked at his crotch, but he twisted and she only connected with his thigh.

"Goddamn it baby, so you like it rough, huh?" he punched her sloppily across the face, eliciting a yelp from her as the side of her face smacked against the concrete wall. She felt a sharp pain in her temple... dizziness. She fought desperately to retain consciousness, all the while struggling against his advances.

He pushed her by her shoulders down to the ground, slamming her back hard. As she wheezed painfully for the air he'd knocked out of her, she could practically taste the alcohol on his hot breath. "Don't worry baby, think of it like a tax... for the NCR keepin' your pretty ass safe," he slurred as he groped her. With his weight on her, she could hardly move. Terror enveloped her like a blanket, as he tore off her shirt with a loud rip. The buttons popped off in all directions, sounding like bullets as they flew through the air.

Throwing her head back, she tried to cry out, "Boone!" Her throat felt too tight. Had she even made a sound at all? All she heard was the pounding of her heart in her ears. A fog came over her mind - numbing her - maybe it was a coping mechanism, maybe she was about to pass out. _Is he choking me?_ She felt like his damned hands were everywhere, all over her.

Suddenly a hand grabbed the back of the drunken soldier's head and slammed his face into the ground next to her. Then he was dragged back off her, and jerked around - to face Boone with the MP behind him. Boone punched the drunk across the face - hard. He fell to the ground, spitting blood. Elaine scrambled away from him to the wall behind her, wheezing. She coughed hoarsely, hugging her knees to her bare chest.

Boone stepped forward and kicked the man square in the gut. He was about to do it again when the MP held him back, saying something to him she couldn't hear. She'd never seen Boone so angry. Not when they'd fought back at Nelson. Not even at legionaries. When he turned to look at her, he appeared as though he were physically pained. He walked over and crouched next to her. Pulling off his shirt, he offered it to her gently, "here."

He stood and turned away, giving her privacy as she pulled it over her head. The MP was fitting restraints on the bloodied drunk. Soon, Major Dhatri jogged up, "What's going on here?"

The MP gestured, "This soldier assaulted the woman over there."

Dhatri looked at her, then the man who was still groaning on the ground, "Take this piece of shit away. I'll deal with him in the morning." The MP did as ordered, while giving Boone a nod of respect as he left.

* * *

Boone strode over to Dhatri, seriousness written all over his face. "Sir, if that son of a bitch isn't court-martialed, I am going to-"

Dhatri interrupted him holding up a hand, "Boone, I promise you - he'll get what he's got coming. If there's anything we take seriously here in the NCR, it's rape. We need every female soldier we've got, and we want them safe. It doesn't matter that she's a civvie. Hell, you've both done more for the NCR than most. We all know that."

Grinding his teeth with wrath, Boone could only nod. Dhatri had been around when he was in 1st Recon - he knew the Major was a good man and meant every word he said. But still, Boone wished he'd gotten in a few more kicks. Broken a few bones. He could feel his knuckles throbbing hotly... maybe he'd at least knocked out some of that motherfucker's teeth.

The elder soldier sighed, and put his hand on Boone's shoulder, "I'm terribly sorry for what happened to your wife - you have my _word_, that man will be punished to the fullest extent. If she needs anything - medical attention, whatever - just let me know."

"She's not my-" Boone started, but then turned, glancing back to Elaine, huddled against the wall where he'd left her. Oddly, the Major's mistake didn't really bother him. Shit, he had been fighting tooth and nails alongside her for months ... like she was the only thing he had. _She_ is _all I have_, he realized. That night, she had needed him. _If I hadn't heard her..._ he didn't want to think about it - what it would have done to her to be hurt like that. Maybe pushing her away was just as dangerous as hanging on, he realized. Maybe he _was_ being an idiot, and she had been right all along. Suddenly he felt like a complete fool for pushing her away at Bitter Springs. After a moment, he turned back to the Major, "Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

At that, he walked back over to her, still scrunched up on the ground. "Elaine," he reached down and offered her his hand. She took it, and he helped her stand. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he steadied her. Bending over to her eye level, he spoke softly, "We should get you to the medical tent."

She shook her head, "Don't want anyone to touch me. Please." Though she hadn't said it, it was understood between them that he was exempt.

"This cut is bad," he brushed her hair away from her temple, where she had hit the wall. A smear of bright red blood ran along the side of her face.

"Can you sew it up for me?" He nodded.

After walking her back to the tent, he lowered her onto her bedroll. She lay down, exhaling shakily. He gathered the field dressing kit and a lamp, and then pulled his bedroll over next to hers. Taking a seat, he gently turned her on her side facing away from him, so he could see her temple. He administered an injection of Med-X to dull her pain. She sighed with exhaustion - her body relaxed visibly as the powerful drug coursed through her veins.

Boone cleaned the wound and her face carefully with a piece of cloth, and began stitching up the gash. He looked for a reaction - pain or something - but she had closed her eyes, and almost seemed peaceful. _Was she in shock?_ He gave her shoulder a light shake.

She opened her eyes, looked at him, and asked, "You done?" Her voice sounded small, far away. He recalled that night by the fire when she stitched up her own shoulder without flinching. He couldn't help but think, _God, that is so sexy_.

"Almost," he replied. She closed her eyes again, and lay her head back down. He finished stitching her up, not sure of what to say. Shit, he felt like he never knew the right thing to say. He set the medical supplies out of the way, and turned off the light, laying on his back, still next to her. "Sorry I wasn't there," was all he could think of. It didn't feel like much.

She sniffled, "Yes you were. Thank you." He propped himself up on one elbow, and saw that she was crying. At this moment, he decided to just let his actions take over for the words he couldn't seem to find. He reached around her, and hugged her tightly to his chest, trying to stop her from shaking. With his other hand, he smoothed her still wet hair.

After a while, she had stopped trembling. "I don't know where I'd be without you, Boone."

"Craig," he replied.

"Craig?" she arched her neck to see his face, wiping the tears from her face.

"Craig. My first name." _Why hadn't he told her before?_ He had no idea. Whatever reason he'd had, it felt far away when he looked in her eyes now.

Elaine didn't respond immediately. They could hear the sounds of the camp, a fire crackling softly. Finally, "Hmm. Craig Boone. I like that." She laid her head back down with a soft sigh, finally relaxed. He lay there, listening to her breathing get slower and deeper over time. Soon, she was asleep, his arm still around her. The familiar floral smell was strong on her freshly washed hair. He lay his head down next to hers. Breathing her in, he closed his eyes.


	12. Uncertainties

A/N: As always, a huge thanks to all the people who reviewed, fav'd, and alerted! :)

* * *

The next morning, Elaine woke slowly from a deep, dreamless sleep. She opened her eyes, looking around groggily. _Ah - McCarran_, she recalled. Then she remembered being attacked. A little surge of fear rose at the recollection, but it quickly dissipated - she was alright now. Moving slightly to look for Boone, she felt a weight on her side. Awakening more, she remembered Boone - _no wait, it's Craig now _- holding her until she fell asleep. She could feel his breath, warm against the back of her neck. She didn't realize he'd held her all night. She closed her eyes again, just allowing herself to enjoy the sensation of being this close to him. He had been there to protect her. She felt _safe_ with him. Here … wandering the wastes … even in the middle of a firefight. He always had her back. _Always._ She was pretty sure he'd put himself in harm's way to protect her.

Why would he do that if he didn't care? She'd do anything for him. And she knew how she felt about him. _Maybe... ? Maybe I should just ask him what he thinks about 'us.'_ Mulling over it, she shifted a bit. Through the bedroll, the ground was hard and uncomfortable under her hip.

_Wait_- ?

She glanced down, visually confirming what her senses were telling her. Yes, he'd held her all night. But... his arm had wandered up a bit, and his hand was now cupping the underside of her breast. She blinked a few times, not really believing her eyes. She was still only wearing his old tee-shirt, and could feel the warmth of his hand against her skin. If it were anyone else, her reaction would probably have been to bite a chunk out of their arm. But, Craig - _he_ was different. Not only did she trust him to hold her … she wanted him to. Having him touch her like this was extraordinarily erotic; she felt flush all over.

Her mind danced through all sorts of scenarios. Maybe she could just roll over and wake him with a deep kiss - let him know in no uncertain terms how she felt about him? Or- … _Calm down, Elaine! _What if this was an accident? She recalled his reaction to her touch at Bitter Springs. She didn't want to keep making passes at him if he didn't feel the same. Still, she couldn't bring herself to move away from his hand. After a moment of consideration, she decided what she was going to do. Instead of taking action herself, she laid her head back down, pretending to still be asleep. She'd just see what he did when he woke in this position. _He'll have to say something then. Harmless, right_?

She waited silently, trying to breathe slowly and regularly, like she would if she were sleeping, and not awake and... well, a bit aroused. Every so often, she'd hear a noise outside the tent - someone talking, a clank of a breakfast dish, or the shuffles of boots. Each time, she'd ready for him to wake. But, she ended up waiting for what felt like an eternity until he finally started to stir.

At first, he only groaned softly, and nuzzled his face deeper into her hair. After a while, she felt him breathe in deep, and slowly exhale, as if perfectly content. He mumbled something unintelligible, and pulled her tighter to his chest with the arm draped over her. The sweetness of the moment was nearly overwhelming. _Could this just last forever, please?_ Then, the thumb of his not-so-offensive wandering hand started to trail down across the curve of her breast... _Holy shit, is he still asleep? _she wondered, trying desperately not to move … or moan. Suddenly his thumb rubbed over her hard nipple. Unlike her breathing, she had _no _control over its response to his actions.

He inhaled sharply, waking fully - and yanked his hand away from her chest. Sitting up like a shot, he burst into a dry cough. She did her best to feign being shocked out of slumber, and turned to see him looking back at her, utterly bewildered. And with _very_ red cheeks. _I don't think I've ever seen him blush!_

"What is it, Craig?" she asked as innocently as possible. "Is something wrong?"

He glanced down blatantly at her chest, then quickly away, turning to go through his bag. She almost wanted to laugh out loud, watching him scramble like this. He turned back around with a bottle of water, taking a long gulp. "Got a tickle in my throat," he mumbled without looking at her again. _God he's a terrible liar_.

He got up and started to put away the medical supplies he'd left out the night before. She eyed him, trying to decipher his reaction. _Was he going to play it off, too? Damn it!_ She didn't know what his embarrassment had meant. She was pretty sure he didn't do it on purpose, especially after his flush cheeks. But... did he like it? What was he thinking? _Shit. Maybe I should have done something different._

Her mind ran through options - was there any way to salvage this? She couldn't think of a damn thing. Frustrated, she took a deep breath and sat up on her bedroll. She looked down at herself, still wearing his stupid shirt. Turning, she started rummaging through her bag for something of her own to wear. Finding a simple black tank top, she pulled it and a bra out of her bag. Looking over her shoulder, she noted Craig still doing his own thing, facing away. She shrugged, and pulled off his shirt, tossing it over onto his bedroll. _He knows what's under that now, after all, _she thought, still tickled at his flustered response_._ She put on her bra, reaching behind her back to fasten the clasp.

Peering over her shoulder, she saw he'd turned, and was glancing her way. She cocked her eyebrow at him, and then pulled her shirt over her head. He turned back away with a sheepish, "Sorry." _Sorry you got caught, you mean_? She shrugged and spun back around on her butt nonchalantly.

Looking at him, she admitted to herself, _he's not going to talk to me about what just happened_. _It's me and Craig, after all. We may talk about it in two weeks if I'm lucky. _She decided she should stop toying with him for now. It really wasn't fair to play with him this way, even if it was hilarious. Maybe it would come up sooner rather than later. _Or, better yet - happen again_. She sighed, _let it go,_ _Elaine._

"So, today, I say we head back to the Lucky 38 and take Mr. House out of commission for the NCR. Then we'll head back to Hoover Dam."

He nodded, seemingly relieved to talk business. "What's your plan?"

"Well, all I saw were robots. There was a good number of them, but they shouldn't be too much trouble."

"Any idea of how we'd actually 'kill' House? You said you only talked to a computer screen." He leaned over, retrieving the shirt she'd worn, stuffing it in his pack.

"Yeah, that's kind of a problem. I noticed a terminal that was password protected while I was up there... I'm kind of assuming that will be our key."

He grunted, looking up at her from his pack, "You're assuming? That's reassuring."

"You have a better idea?" she snorted, crossing her arms. "This is about as much as I usually plan our adventures."

"No," he replied with a slight smile. "Alright - let's get to it."

* * *

It was late morning when they strode into the Lucky 38. Craig looked over at Elaine walking next to him. She appeared focused, like usual. He could hardly get his mind off what had happened that morning. Though he certainly wouldn't have consciously done something so forward as feeling her up while she was asleep... it sure as shit was a pleasant thing to wake up to. He shook his head, _Goddamn it, she got attacked by some guy last night, and then she wakes up to me squeezing her tits. Well done. I'm sure she would have been ecstatic._ Fortunately, he was almost certain that she hadn't noticed.

Still, he knew last night had definitely changed things for him. He wanted to tell her. He wanted to apologize for being such a dick at Bitter Springs. The way she'd touched him, looked at him - he was pretty sure she felt something for him. But all of this shit required words. He glanced at her again as they entered the elevator. Elaine never seemed to mind his lack of eloquence. She was always the one who talked them out of trouble. But now that he _needed_ to talk to her, he wasn't sure how. Next to him, she was fishing through her pockets, ignoring him completely.

The elevator doors sliding open brought him abruptly back into focus. A securitron displaying a picture of a woman's face rolled forward, blocking their path out. It directed its attention to Elaine, "I'm sorry, but you can't bring your handsome friend there onto this floor. Mr. House's rules! He'll be mighty comfortable waiting in the Presidential Suite until you are done with your business here. Mr. House has been expecting you!"

"Hi, Jane. See, I brought one of those snow globes you asked for," she replied, raising something in her hand.

"Well, that's great, sugar! You can just hand it to me and send your friend on his way."

"Here!" she tossed the item around Jane's wheel and ducked back behind the doorframe. Jane turned and chased after it toward the stairs. With a burst of purple arcing energy, it exploded loudly - it was a pulse grenade. Jane and two other nearby securitrons clanked to the floor, their circuits fried.

Craig and Elaine pulled out their rifles and made a run for the console beyond the giant terminal screen. Only a few bots stood in their way; they weren't really a challenge to bring down. He could hear others rolling around elsewhere on this floor, but at the moment, they were only searching for targets. Shouldering her rifle, Elaine quickly hacked the terminal.

"Looks like it opens a door somewhere..." she typed a command, and upon hitting enter, the wall beside them hissed and started to slide smoothly open.

Craig mused, "Didn't think it'd be that easy."

She waggled her fingers at him, "I'm a miracle worker."

After taking out the two securitrons inside, Craig shook his head. _How could someone with so much at their disposal have such shoddy security?_ "I'm surprised no one has beaten us to this." Elaine stood beside him, chewing her bottom lip thoughtfully.

"I don't see any big computers..." she said, surveying the room, "I guess that's what I expected in here." Walking further in, she examined a set of doors on the inner wall. Typing on a wall terminal, she forced the doors - which led into another elevator.

This elevator was smaller, barely large enough for the both of them. He stepped in first, holding his rifle up to make room for her. She scooted in, her back pressed lightly against him, and pushed the only button available - 'Control Room' - and it slowly started to descend. Pulling out her handgun, she glanced oddly up at him. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she nodded, but with a different tone than usual. He found it difficult to ignore the close proximity of her... it was just like this morning. _At this time I managed not to grope her. _ He chastised himself, _Fuck, Craig... stop thinking about it._

The doors slid open and she stepped away from him, gun raised. He followed, quickly assessing their environment. They found themselves on a darkened catwalk, surrounded by the hum of machinery. A large mechanical-looking tube with computer banks alongside it lay straight ahead.

"What's this?" she asked, bewildered.

"Not sure. Maybe check the terminal."

She stuffed her gun back away, and walked forward cautiously toward the terminal. Craig stood still, checking for turrets or any other threats. _Why isn't this room guarded?_

Elaine started to type in the terminal, "There's no passcode." She read the screen, then narrowed her eyes. "Unseal LS chamber? Does that mean life support?" She walked over to the large tube, trying to look inside.

"Do you see anything?"

"Just fog." After a moment, "I guess I'll open it. Maybe it uses a living brain - like some robots. We can just destroy it. Simple enough." Craig shrugged - he sure didn't know. She returned to the terminal, and clicked through the commands.

The tube erupted in a loud hiss, spewing foggy gas out onto the catwalk. Craig stepped forward, suddenly feeling uneasy. He hooked a hand around Elaine's waist, pulling her backwards away from the exhaust. "Get back. Who knows what's in that thing - maybe we should just drop some C4 and go?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but then stopped. A look of disgust crossed her face, and he turned to see what she was looking at. From within the chamber, a flat bed arose, with the remnants of what used to be a man strapped to it. His shriveled body was hooked up to the machine - wires and tubes ran from all points of his naked body.

"Oh my god - what the hell? _That_ is Mr. House? Is it actually alive? This is so _perverse_, so _unnatural_..." she said, shaking her head. She ripped her beret off and used it to cover her mouth and nose. He felt her reach back to him, hooking a hand on his belt.

House's voice wheezed, like something dying, "Why have you … done this? … centuries of preparation … so much good, undone..."

She wrinkled her nose before replying, masking her shock with stern confidence. "You had to have seen this coming... New Vegas is pretty cut-throat. You made it that way after all."

He hissed back, "You whore... lackey of the NCR ... is this ... your puppeteer?"

Craig felt her tense against him, "I didn't need the NCR to ask me more than once. From the get-go, you came off as a pretentious asshole."

"May there be ... a hell for you ... a Tartarus ... bleak, unending... " his voice grew raised, as if he were summoning up some great evil.

She lifted her handgun, and fired. One shot, and it was over. Turning back to Craig, she looked pale. She pushed against his chest, back toward the elevator. "Let's get out of here, please."

* * *

They had to fight their way through a few more bots on the way out, but soon they emerged from the Lucky 38 into the afternoon sun. Elaine walked down toward the main street, and finally stopped, leaning on a lamppost and breathing deep. He could tell that she was upset. "You alright?"

"Do you know what a Tartarus is?" she asked worriedly.

"No." He sighed, rubbing her gently on the back, "Don't worry about what he said. What's wrong, Elaine?"

"I thought it- ... he was going to be a computer." She looked up, still an uneasy look on her face.

"He mostly was."

"I guess- ... I just didn't think I'd be killing _someone_." She paused to wipe her forehead... and quickly put her beret back on once she realized it was missing. After a moment, "I mean, I know I've killed a lot of people. But not without reason. Once I saw it wasn't a computer ... well, I didn't really have time to think about it. I hope I did the right thing."

He couldn't help but be a bit surprised, she always seemed so confident in her choices. But it wasn't blind conviction that made her act, like soldiers of the NCR. That led to things like Bitter Springs. She really cared about the effects of her actions. He was more glad than ever that he'd met her all those months ago in Novac. That he'd decided to take a chance on her. She was just what he had needed. Deep down, he wished he knew how to tell her so. "You can't really call - _that_ - a some_one_, Elaine. He was supposed to have died 200 years ago. And, he _was_ an asshole. Of course you did the right thing - you always do. I've been with you long enough to know that. Don't doubt yourself."

She appeared comforted by his response, murmuring, "I guess that's true." Then, she scrunched up her eyebrows, with a surprised look. Looking at him sideways, "You really think that about me?" She turned to face him; his arm was still around her shoulder. There was only a foot between them... it seemed like they hung in the moment for an awkwardly long time. He felt like her eyes were searching his... for something.

_Say it... tell her._ "Sure." It felt odd to compliment her so outright; he wasn't sure if he was turning red. He hoped not.

"Thanks, Craig," she said quietly, like she was thinking of something. Maybe she had something else to say. If she did, she didn't say it.

_Just tell her!_ "Elaine.." he started out... but found himself almost immediately stuck on what to say to her.

Abruptly, a few drunken NCR soldiers started cheering loudly over near Gomorrah. Turning, Craig saw that one of the men - probably the drunkest - was stripping off his clothes and throwing them haphazardly around. Soon he was running around in his boxers, his buddies cheering him on wildly. Elaine laughed and turning back to Craig. "And with that, I think I'm ready to get out of here."

The nearly naked soldier had apparently been encouraged by her laugh, and ran over to her dancing around crazily, "Whooo! Vegas, baby!" he shouted. Elaine turned red and hitched her arm around Craig's, and started walking them quickly away.

"Good god," she shook her head with embarrassment. Then, she turned back to Craig suddenly, "wait... were you saying something?"

It was hard enough thinking of what to say to her normally, but it was near impossible with that idiot drunk running around behind them. He looked up at the sky, checking the position of the sun. "We can't make Hoover Dam before nightfall," he covered.

"Hm, going back to McCarran seems like backtracking," she thought aloud.

"Want to just head out and camp?" He hoped she'd agree. He was getting increasingly tired of the distractions and annoyance of New Vegas. Being back in the wastes was simple. Somehow, he was going to have to find a way to talk to Elaine. Just having that on his mind was enough.

"Yeah." She smiled, looking relieved, "It'll be a nice change of pace. I've had enough of Vegas. This shit is overrated." He cracked a grin and nodded...

_That's my girl._


	13. Safehouse

A/N: Okay, luvs. Fair warning: this story isn't rated M just for the naughty language and sporadic violence. You know what I'm getting at - smut ahead.

* * *

They walked south, the lights of New Vegas illuminating the low clouds in the sky behind them with a warm golden hue. This line of clouds had rolled in fast, and was rumbling with thunder - threatening to make their night miserable if they didn't find somewhere to stay soon. Elaine looked down at her Pip-Boy. _We need shelter._ Zooming in, she remembered adding a new set of coordinates to the map a few days ago... it appeared not too far from where they stood.

"Hey Craig, do you know where the NCR Ranger Safehouse is?"

He walked up next to her, leaning over her shoulder to examine the map. "No. Never been there."

"It's so close... maybe we should head there? I think the sky's about to split on us. Maybe there will be some supplies, too."

He shrugged. A fat drop of rain plunked onto her display. She wiped it off and checked the screen once more, pointing in the direction of their destination.

They picked up their pace, jogging lightly as the drops turned into a shower. Crossing a low flat area, they could see a rocky ridge not too far away. "I think it's in the cliffside. Colonel Hsu said it was a cave-like struc-."

Craig clamped his hand over her mouth and pulled her down into a squat. "Mmm?" she muttered. He raised his finger to his mouth with emphasis, quickly silencing her.

He had spotted something off to the west, toward what appeared to be an old trainyard. She squinted, but it was hard to see through the steadily pelting rain. After a moment, though, she saw movement. A large lumbering creature, with long scythe-like claws. _Deathclaw._ She'd seen them from a distance before, but she'd never been this close to one. She knew how dangerous they were - anyone who valued their life made sure to steer clear of them at all times. She unslung her rifle, but he put his hand over its barrel, holding it down. "Wait. Too many," he whispered.

He pointed out three more - two others off in the distance just past the one she'd seen, and a last one to their south, much closer. She wiped the rain from her eyes, waiting for him to speak again. He continued to assess the area for another minute, then turned, "Show me the location of the safehouse again."

She sheltered her pip-boy from the rain and indicated the direction with her index finger - it looked like it should be due south in a ravine that she could see cutting into the hillside. Of course, that was assuming the coordinates were correct. _Great._

"Alright," he murmured. "We're going to shoot that one between us and the safehouse. Use armor-piercing rounds. Hopefully we can get inside before the others chase us down. Don't like our odds trying to fight several of them in this rainstorm."

She was thrown off by his tone - if he was nervous, that made her doubly so. "Do you think we should turn around? Head back toward south Vegas? What if the location isn't correct? We'd be trapped up there."

He shook his head, "No. NCR would get that right. We just need to be quick, that's all."

She rummaged through her pocket, finding her keyring. She pulled off the key Hsu had given her for the safehouse, so she'd have it ready. Craig was removing the bullets from the chamber of his sniper rifle and replacing them with armor piercing rounds. He handed her a box of AP 5.56 rounds from his bag, and she did the same.

Staying as low as they could, they moved slowly toward the cliff face. He led the way, trying to get them as close as possible before the animal reacted. Elaine blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the rain out of her eyes. This felt too risky. At least it was a little easier to sneak in the rain - the noisy precipitation covered the sounds of their footfalls. Soon they were only 30 or so feet away from the beast, and maybe 50 from the cliff. Abruptly, the huge creature turned toward them. Without a sound, it took off in a loping run straight for them, claws outstretched. She fought the urge to bolt, and quickly brought her rifle up and began pumping rounds into its legs, trying to cripple it. Craig kept advancing, despite the animal coming at him. He fired precisely, taking a series of headshots. "Damn it Craig, get back!" she shouted desperately.

He fired off a couple more rounds, and the animal crumpled to the ground. "Come on!" he yelled back, waving her forward. She ran past him, hearing his footsteps crunch as he followed after her. No need to be stealthy now - the other three deathclaws surely had heard their gunfire. They were probably already coming for them. _And they run a hell of a lot faster than us._ Elaine could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the instinctual, feral fear of being _hunted_ urging her feet as fast as they could possibly go. She fought the urge to look back, and reached in her pocket for the key with one hand, gripping her rifle in the other. She entered the ravine, clamoring uphill over uneven and loose, pebbly ground. At the end of the path was a wooden door inset into the cliff.

"Here!" Elaine shouted, pushing to close the final distance. Craig started firing behind her; she realized the deathclaws must be coming up the hill. She didn't have time to help, she needed to get that door open if they were going to live. She slammed against the door at a full run, not wanting to slow any sooner than necessary. With shaking hands, she pushed the key into the slot and turned. _Click_. Grabbing the handle, she yanked hard to open the heavy door. It moved a bit, but then caught on a rock, stopping abruptly. Her hand slipped and she fell, splashing on her back in the mud with a yelp.

Craig ran up, grabbed her arm and yanked her back to her feet, "Not much time!" She could barely see the animals through the heavy rain, two limping up the hill. The third advanced at an alarmingly fast rate... it would be on them in far less time. He reached behind her, ripping the door open with a metallic screech, and shoved her inside. She fell hard onto her side, her rifle skittering off through the cave behind her. She flipped onto her back, coughing on rainwater as she gasped for breath. Pulling out her handgun, she prepared for a deathclaw to come tearing through the door after them. After what felt like the longest few seconds of her life, Craig scrambled inside, turning back to pull the door shut behind him.

_BOOM!_

One of the creatures slammed into the door, shutting it with a thud that echoed so loudly in the small room that her ears hurt. Still standing facing the door, Craig leaned over, resting his hands on his knees. "Son of a bitch!" he panted heavily, letting his rifle clank to the floor.

"Are you hurt?" she asked frantically, getting to her feet and running to his side.

"No. I'm fuckin' exhausted." She let out a equally tired huff, and let her hands rest on his shoulders, catching her breath herself.

The muffled sounds of claws scraping against wood came from the door. "You don't think they can open that door, do you?"

"No. It's solid. And even if they knew how to use the handle, they don't have the key," he said, raising it in his hand.

She stood, laughing with relief, "How the hell are we still alive?" She jabbed him in the side with a finger, "Just in case you didn't notice - if you were cursed, we'd be dead for sure after _that_ stunt. I think some of my so-called luck has rubbed off on you." With a smug grin, she walked to the other end of the room, picked up her rifle and opened the secondary door into the main shelter.

The safehouse itself was not at all what she'd expected - it was essentially just a tiny kitchen and a small sleeping area with a half dozen cots. "Wow, this is lame," she grunted, leaning her head into the bedroom. "No wonder the NCR doesn't bother taking care of those damn monsters. This place isn't worth the trouble."

"Just be glad it's not full of baby deathclaws," he added behind her.

Turning to Craig, she found him leaning against the kitchen doorway. "Speaking of them - how are we going to get out of here tomorrow?"

"We've still got a few bricks of C4," he shrugged, "It won't still be raining in the morning. If they're still there, we can chuck a few out. Give them a nice surprise." She smiled, letting go of the worry for now. _We'll deal with tomorrow... tomorrow. Hell, dealing with today has been enough for me._

"I am gonna take off these wet clothes," she sighed. "Get some food?"

"Yeah." he turned into the kitchen, out of sight.

Walking into the small room, Elaine dropped her bag on one of the cots, looking through it for anything that was still dry. _Nothing. _Everything she owned was soaking wet. Her pack was practically sloshing, in fact. Groaning, she dumped its contents, laying things out in the hopes that they'd dry overnight. Kicking off her squishy boots, she began searching through the footlockers that were by each bed. It wasn't likely that she'd find anything nice to wear, but maybe she'd get lucky? _Not this time._ The only clothing she found was an enormous pre-war men's outfit - grey trousers and a blue button up shirt. She pulled off her armor and set it with her rifle against the wall. Peeling off all her soaked clothes, she lay them out over the end of one of the cots to dry, too.

Lifting up the huge shirt she sighed and pulled it onto her nude body. It was so loose, she figured it didn't matter that she didn't have a dry bra to wear. Looking down at herself, she knew it must look like a potato sack on her. _Flattering,_ she chuckled as she buttoned it up. It was so long, it hung down almost to her knees. She rolled up the sleeves, and reached for the pants. Holding them up, she could tell the waist was big enough to fit two of her inside. _Yeah - that's not happening._ She laid them back on the footlocker. Running her fingers through her wet hair, she absentmindedly tried to pull out any knots. With a roll of her eyes, she realized she was fussing over her appearance because of Craig. _He's seen me covered in dust, smelly, out in the wastes for days between showers. I don't think he's going to be fazed by slightly messed up hair, Elaine,_ she chastised herself.

Slipping down the hall, she peeked around the door frame into the kitchen, still feeling quite a bit self-conscious about how silly she looked. Craig had already set out a couple bottles of water and rations from the cabinets. She immediately noted that he'd taken off his armor ...and his shirt. Much as she fought the urge, she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow and let slip a quiet, appreciative "Mmm." As she strode in, he was pulling off his wet boots. Looking up at her from his seat, he did an overt double take, and then tried unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh.

"Oh yeah, laugh it up asshole. Now I don't feel so bad about taking the only dry shirt in this place," she rolled her eyes as she walked by.

"Were there no pants?" He was grinning like an idiot. _If I didn't have such a thing for him, I'd probably punch that grin off his stupid face, _she thought.

"Yes, there _were_, as a matter of fact. But being the generous person I am, I left them for you. They sure would fit you better than me anyway," she snorted with disgust and plopped into the chair next to him. He shook his head with amusement and spooned some food into his mouth.

They both ate in silence for a while. Elaine didn't know about him, but she was starving. She would have preferred fresh food, but in her famished state, this irradiated crap tasted absolutely delicious. Soon there were a half dozen empty boxes in front of her. After she'd finally sated her hunger, she reclined back against the chair with her eyes closed, relaxing. She heard Craig get up, but didn't bother looking. She figured he was headed into the bedroom to get out of his rain-soaked cargo pants.

She realized that they wouldn't need to pull shifts tonight... that they'd both be sleeping in the same room. It wasn't something that often happened, with them usually camping in the wastes or in unfamiliar locations. Unfortunately, with those cots, there wasn't much likelihood of a repeat of that morning. _Too bad,_ she thought. She'd pretty much given up on trying to find any shame in her less than pure thoughts about him. She knew she had fallen for him. _Fallen hard_. She wouldn't have been so bold as to call it love back when she'd tried to reach out to him at Bitter Springs. But after thinking on it since that day, what else could it be? _I am going to _have_ to tell him how I feel. This can't go on forever._

On the counter behind her, a radio was playing. The music was, of course, a song she'd heard a hundred times before. She still liked it. She sung along softly along with the woman crooning about her lover. 'Johnny Guitar.' It was such a beautifully bittersweet song. She considered her own feelings for Craig... maybe she was a fool for him, too. She still didn't even know how he felt about her in return. _If_ _he felt anything_. Was she _that_ hopelessly devoted?

_Fuck it,_ she though, _I'm just going to tell him tonight. I can't keep wondering about this - it's driving me crazy. If he doesn't feel the same, then... well, I'll just have to deal with it._

Mr. New Vegas came on once the song had ended, passing on his love to all the listeners as usual. He drawled on into the news briefs: "... two civilians repelled an entire Legion raiding force at Bitter Springs." She raised her head abruptly, jerked out of her thoughts. "A civilian at the camp was quoted as saying, 'God sent us two angels … and at least one o' them had a .308 caliber flaming sword of justice with a telescopic sight!'"

At that, Elaine gasped and hopped up, running into the bedroom. "Did you hear that? We're _angels_, Craig!" she laughed.

She had forgotten he was changing, and skidded to a halt in the doorway. He was sitting on a cot, buttoning up the pants... they were enormously loose on _him_, even. She covered her mouth, trying to hide her amusement when she saw him. He looked up with a little smirk on his face, shaking his head. "Maybe _you_ are."

To her, it almost seemed like flirtation. Or, maybe that's just what she so desperately wanted to hear. She moved into the room, eyeing him with a sideways glance. "Now _you_ sound like Mr. New Vegas." She noted him glance down at her bare legs, staring for far longer than was socially acceptable. Then, he ran his hand over his face with an exhale.

She could tell when something was bothering him. "What's wrong?"

"Sorry." he paused. "I need to say something, but... I don't know the right way to say it."

Forgetting her own troubles, she responded softly, "You don't have to apologize for anything. You're always straight with me, Craig. That's all I need. Just tell me what's on your mind." She crossed the room and sat down next to him on the cot.

"For a while after Carla died, I thought- … I was certain that I wasn't meant to be happy. It was what I deserved. If something good wandered into my life, it was bound to be ruined." he paused. Elaine waited, knowing he'd continue when he was ready. "At first, with you, I didn't care what happened. We were on the same path. Working together just seemed... efficient. But then, I-" he met her eyes, "I started to _care_ about you. Well, that made things complicated." He shook his head, "When you got hurt at Bitter Springs - when I thought I might _lose _you... it brought back all that guilt. I- … I didn't want to bring you down with me. So, I pushed you away. I realize now that I shouldn't have."

She tilted her head to the side, inhaling a soft breath. _Did he really just say that? Did he just tell me he has _feelings_ for me?_ It felt like a floodgate of emotions had just been released in her. Raising her hand, she lightly touched his cheek, "Craig, you aren't a curse. _Believe_ me. If I know _anything_, it's that. You've saved me a thousand times over. Not just from danger, or death … but from my past. I never thought I'd feel- … _alive_ again. Like this - with you. I don't know how else to describe it. You're like my lucky charm. I'd stick with you forever."

A look of relief washed over his face, and he shifted over, his shoulder pressed against hers. "So what do we do about this?"

"Why are you asking me?" she snorted playfully.

"Because you always seem to know what to do," he added with a grin.

"I think my advice to you might be a little biased."

"Shoot," he said, leaning in closer to her.

She felt her face grow flush, a hot rush of desire rise in her body at having him so close, at his flirtation. "Well, my rule of thumb is, if you see something you want," ..._Oh god, I'm rambling like an idiot now_, "...and no one will miss it if you take it … then, why the hell not have at it? Life's too damn short not to enjoy it." She shook her head, embarrassed, "ha... who's clumsy with words now?_"_

He leaned in, just barely brushing his lips against hers, teasing a soft moan from her. "Yes Ma'am," he rumbled. The vibrations of his deep voice on her lips made her come completely undone.

"Oh, Craig," she purred, feeling weak with need. She reached around his neck and pulled him to her for a kiss. As their lips met, she felt like her body would just melt from all her pent up desire. He reached up, gently tugging open the collar of her shirt, trailing kisses down the pulse of her neck and along her collarbone. His other hand slid under the shirt, gripping her thigh.

Giving his chest a playful push, she urged him to lie back on the bed. Lying down on the cot next to him, she pressed herself up against his side, leaning in for another kiss. Suddenly she felt a sharp poke on her chest, "Ow!" She jerked back, grabbing her breast in shock. There was something hard in the front pocket. Reaching in, she pulled it out - it was a Sunset Sarsaparilla star bottle cap. "Fucker," she growled and tossed it across the room.

Craig was looking down where she'd grabbed herself, chuckling lightly. Suddenly it dawned on her what was going through his mind. She looked at him with narrowed eyes. _I see... he thinks he's _so_ clever._ She cocked her head, "What's so funny?" she asked coyly and reached across him and pretended to grope his chest, running her thumb over his nipple.

He propped himself up on an elbow with an incredulous look, "You knew?"

"Haha, oh man," she laid back, laughing hysterically. "You should have seen your face... you were as red as your beret." At that, she looked up, and realized he'd put the beret back on after changing. Or, maybe he had never taken it off. "Speaking of-..." she reached up and ripped it off his head, "how the hell are you still wearing this damn thing." With dramatic flair, she tossed it off across the room.

He feigned a look of annoyance and she clucked, responding with a melodramatic eyeroll. Leaning onto his chest and looking down at him, "Oh, I'm _so sorry _baby. Please... forgive me." Grinning, she caressed his face in her hands. Reaching around her waist, Craig pulled her on top of him, in a tight embrace. It felt so good to hold him... and to be held. She tucked her face into his neck, enjoying having him so close to her. She felt … like she was really and truly alive. It was like her whole body was glowing. Like one of those stupid green ghouls - but with warmth and comfort and pleasure... not radiation. She loved how he had that effect on her.

Running his hands down to the small of her back, he rubbed his thumbs in little circles on her hips. "Sorry I've been so... difficult." he whispered.

She lifted her head back up, and touched her forehead to his, looking into his eyes. "We've both been difficult, in case you don't remember." She ran her hands over his shoulders and down his strong arms, wanting to take in every inch of his body. Tilting his chin up to meet her, he kissed her again, their tongues exploring each other with a fervent need.

Craig ran his hands under her shirt, along her smooth sides and over her back. She arched against his touch, grinding down on his lap, eliciting a growl of pleasure from him. She giggled, thinking of what a tease it had been to have him touch her that morning. She nibbled his lower lip as she broke the kiss, and then leaned to the side and suckled on his earlobe with a breathy moan of her own.

He reached under her, slowly unbuttoning the buttons of her shirt, and then pulled it off her shoulders. She smiled into his cheek. The feel of his skin against hers sent tingles up her spine. She kissed him again, as his hands wandered up her sides, caressing the curves of her breasts. Running his thumbs over her nipples, she moaned freely into his mouth. _God, this is like a thousand times hotter than this morning_, she realized. Breaking the kiss, she sat up and ran her hands over his chest, eventually coming to the clasp of his pants. Lifting herself off him, she unbuttoned them and gave them a suggestive little tug. He got her hint and quickly wiggled out of them, kicking them off onto the floor.

Climbing back on top of him, She straddled his lap. Elaine could feel his excitement hot against her. His hands found her hips and gripped tightly, pulling her down to grind against him. She let her hands glide over his abdomen, feeling the muscles tighten as he bucked up against her wetness. Obliging, she rocked her hips - slowly, deliberately teasing him. He drops his head back on the bed, releasing a groan of sheer pleasure as she moved against him. A tight feeling spread in her core, the yearning for release almost painful. His name slipped from her lips, pleading. As if he could sense her need, he pulled her down, and kissed her passionately. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he shifted her onto her back, and moved over her.

He kissed her stomach, slowly working his way up to the undersides of each breast. Moving up, he circled one nipple lazily with his tongue while he teased the other between two fingers. Writhing at his ministrations, Elaine could only whimper, unable to form words anymore. She could feel her own blood pounding in her ears, deafening. Her veins felt like they were filled with liquid heat, blooming out all over her skin. She wanted him so badly she could barely move, her body was just a trembling mess.

Moving up to her face, he kissed her once more, gripping her hip with one strong hand. "Please ...Craig," she gasped against his cheek. He entered her, slowly, with a ragged exhale of ecstasy. Moving together, they quickly found a rhythm, held tightly against one another. Each time he pushed into her, she rocked her hips up eagerly to meet him. It was not long before his thrusts became more fervent, causing her to arch up off the bed, pressing herself flush against his heaving chest. His skin was slick against her own. Gripping the sheets tightly, she felt as if she might explode from the pressure building in her. Wrapping her thighs around him, she urged him faster, deeper, feeling wildly close to release. With a deep moan, he pulled her body up to meet him as he hitched in climax. The sound of his release sent her completely over the edge, her body awash with a white-hot pleasure. She muffled an incoherent cry into his shoulder, riding out the waves of electric bliss that seemed to pulse through every nerve in her body.

Elaine lay her head back on the bed, panting to catch her breath. Craig kissed at her throat gently, making her whole body tremble. After they'd calmed, he shifted off her, laying beside her on the small bed. She rolled to face him, wrapping a leg over his body possessively. He ran his fingers through her hair, giving her a lingering kiss. Laying his head down beside hers, they looked into each others eyes silently.

There were words that each wanted to confess to the other, but neither spoke. At this moment, both wanted nothing more than to revel in just being together, fulfilled, contented. Words could wait. She nuzzled up under his chin, listening to his heart slow. He wrapped his arms around her, warm and strong.

As she closed her eyes, she recalled what she'd said only a short time ago: 'Life's too damn short not to enjoy it.'

_It was about time_, she thought with a sigh.

* * *

Another A/N: So this has been my first try at including some steaminess in a fanfic. Please let me know what you think. I hope it was to your liking!


	14. A Bull in Bear's Clothing

The creak of bed springs woke Craig the next morning. Opening his eyes, he saw Elaine sitting cross-legged beside him, stretching her back. He wasn't sure what time it was, but he felt well-rested. _Really_ _well rested_, he thought, stifling a grin. Last night had been amazing. Next to him, Elaine was running her fingers through her hair, working out knots. Reaching out, he wrapped his hand around her waist, pulling her back toward him.

"Hey," she said warmly, allowing him to pull her over so she was leaning on his chest. "Good morning, sunshine."

"Morning," he replied.

She shifted onto her side a bit, so she was facing him. She looked down and ran her thumb over a scar on his arm distractedly. "About last night..." she started, looking back up at him. "I hope that wasn't too much too fast."

He watched her, trying to decipher her expression, "Do you think it was?"

She bit her bottom lip. After a moment, a guilty smile ran across her face, "No. In fact, I'm kind of wishing it had happened sooner. But I asked _you_."

He pulled her closer, "No. Definitely not too much." Leaning up for a kiss, he met her lips, and his mind quickly returned to the pleasures of the previous night... he let his hand wander down her side, gripping her ass with a little squeeze.

"Oh, no you don't," she pulled away and hopped to her feet with a playful smile. "If I let you start that again, we'll be here all day. It's already past nine in the morning!" She grabbed some clothing that she'd set out to dry the previous night and started dressing, "we've got to get a move on, soldier."

He let out a reluctant sigh, and propped himself up, lazily watching her finish getting dressed. "If you say so."

She looked back over her shoulder as she pulled her shirt over her head, "Oh, don't make me out to be the bad guy here... it's hard enough to resist you. If you start pouting, then I'll lose all willpower and we'll never make it back to Hoover Dam. And the Legion will win, and..."

He laughed and waved a hand at her, "Yeah, okay." He stood indolently, and slowly dressed. He felt like his ears were still ringing from the unbelievably explosive way they'd come together last night.

Once she had packed her things back in her bag, Elaine walked behind him and rubbed his shoulders affectionately. She leaned up and gave him a soft peck on the cheek, "I'll get us some food together. We'll eat and head out." She left the room, and he finished packing his things and put on his armor. Afterward, he took a moment to check over their rifles, making sure they were dry and in working order.

Once he had everything prepped to leave, he stood and headed into the other room to join Elaine. Walking into the kitchen, he was hit by something that actually smelled good. She was over by the stove, chopping up jalapenos and tossing them into a frying pan with slices of Cram and potatoes. He chuckled, "You cook? Why hasn't this happened before?"

"It's not everyday I turn down a handsome man in my bed. I felt bad." She stuck out her bottom lip, shooting him a puppy-dog look.

"I've seen that look before," he grinned. "At the Tops. You're not gonna play me."

"Maybe I already have." she said coyly, still focused on the stove top.

"Hah." he snorted, sitting at the table.

After a minute, she scooped the hot food onto two plates and brought them over, setting one in front of him. He picked up his fork and dug in, finding it to be pretty damn good. "What is it?"

"Cram hash... I guess?" she announced with a shrug, and sat down next to him. "Best I could do with what they've got around here."

He continued to eat, "Better than the stuff they fed us in the NCR."

She chewed thoughtfully for a moment, and then looked back up from her food. "Have you ever thought about reenlisting?"

"Yeah. A few times."

"I guess I never really asked you what you wanted to do with yourself."

"You did, when we met. I told you I wanted to kill Legionnaires. That's kept us pretty busy."

She scoffed, "There hasn't been any shortage of them lately."

He ate another bite, and then continued. "There are some things I miss about the NCR. But each time I think about signing up again, I come back to the same feelings I had when I left. I just couldn't do it. After what happened at Bitter Springs, I decided I prefer to think for myself. No more orders."

She nodded, "No one could blame you for that." Then, she smiled, "Does it piss you off when I tell you to do something?"

He chuckled, "Nah. Besides, I could always say no. You can't court-martial me."

She cocked an eyebrow at him roguishly. "Have you ever wanted to say no to something I asked you to do?"

"There was that time you made me carry a couple sets of power armor and a minigun back into town just to sell for caps. That shit was heavy. I seem to remember you buying a straw cowboy hat with the earnings."

She stuck her tongue out at him, "It was just like Cass's hat. I _love_ her hat. And, you may _also_ recall that I spent some of those caps on your sexy black sunglasses. Way better than those old gold ones."

She poked her food, then asked more seriously, "What do you think about what we're doing - helping the NCR? Is that something you want to do?"

"Yeah. I'd tell you if we got into something I'm against. The NCR isn't perfect - but nothing is. If we can help them stop the Legion, it's worth it. Besides... I'm not about to let you go it alone."

She looked back up at him and mumbled around a mouthful of food that she'd just put in her mouth, "You're so sweet."

Craig couldn't keep the smile from creeping across his face. He adored this woman, poor table manners and all.

"What?" she asked, giving him a funny look.

"You weren't kidding when you said you were raised on a farm." He replied with his best attempt at a straight face. She scrunched her brows, confused.

In response, he stuffed a large forkful of food in his mouth and did his best impression of her, mumbling, "You're so sweet."

Her jaw dropped, and she threatened him through a grin, "Keep pushing me, and you won't have to worry about surviving the deathclaws out there, mister."

* * *

Fortunately, when Craig and Elaine emerged from the safehouse, they found no threats nearby. The deathclaws had apparently lost interest overnight, and were back off to the west in the trainyard again. The two of them headed east past Boulder City, and arrived at the Dam before noon without any incident. They proceeded inside, and reported back to Colonel Moore. She was pleased that they'd removed Mr. House from the picture, and informed them that the President was making an unscheduled visit to the Dam today. She requested that they report to Ranger Grant to offer their assistance.

Elaine huffed with annoyance as they trudged through the dimly-lit corridors back up toward the main lobby of the Dam. "Why would the President come here, now? Is he completely unaware that Fortification Hill is _right_ across the river? Stupid politicians."

"Agreed. The Colonel's right to be nervous, though - the Legion won't waste this opportunity."

"Security is higher here than anywhere else in the Mojave. You think they'll have infiltrated the NCR at the Dam?"

"Yeah," he said tensely.

"That's not very comforting," she said, looking around.

"Just keep your eyes open," he responded. In truth, it worried him, too. If the Legion could get someone in to assassinate the President, then they might be able to sabotage the Dam. Or worse. The Legion needed to be stopped - and soon.

Once they arrived at the lobby, a middle-aged man with an eye patch called them over to the main desk - Ranger Grant. He gave them a quick run-through of the President's visit. He ordered his troops to move to their stations and await the man's arrival. As the soldiers left, Grant turned to Craig and Elaine. "It's been real hectic assigning posts and getting ready for this surprise visit. We just haven't had time to prepare to my liking. Only good thing about that is that maybe the Legion hasn't either. If I can ask a favor, I'd like you two to do a security sweep prior to the President's arrival. There may be nothing to find, but I'd feel better if someone had a final look around. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes sir," Craig responded. Thinking, he added quickly, "we aren't NCR - not officially, anyway. If we're going to be able to help you out, we need full clearance - everywhere."

The ranger shifted, uncertain. Craig knew it was his job to be suspicious of everyone, so he couldn't blame him. "Sure. I'll give you full access. You two are well-known to the troops - we know you're trustworthy. Just don't go walking on stage with the President. His personal ranger guards won't be as friendly as we are."

"Thank you, sir," Craig replied with a salute.

"We'll do our best," Elaine added. The ranger turned and headed outside with his troops.

Elaine left Craig's side and started typing on the terminal on the counter. He walked around, looking for anything amiss. The large circular room was dark and dingy... just like most places in the Dam. He didn't really know what they should be looking for, honestly. Just up the stairs, he heard a woman's voice: "Have you seen him? I can't find him anywhere." A man responded, "No, sorry, Allison." It seemed like as good a place as any to start, so he headed upstairs to check it out.

A woman in an off-white engineer's jumpsuit stood nearby, wringing her hands together worriedly. "Hey, sir?" she called to him.

"Yes?"

"Have you seen my friend, Ben? He was supposed to meet me up here an hour ago so we could watch the President's speech together."

"No, I haven't. Have you checked the barracks?"

"Yeah, I've checked everywhere!" She sighed.

"Is he an engineer, too?"

She nodded. "If you see him, can you tell him where I am?"

"Sure." Craig turned away and headed back downstairs. He wondered if this man Ben's disappearance was the work of a Legion spy. If that were the case... ambushing him in a quiet location would make the most sense - somewhere unseen. He eyed the surroundings, looking for some sort of clue. He noticed the light was on in the supply closet off the lobby. Walking over to the door, he tried the handle - it was locked. He paused; Elaine always picked the locks. Looking over to her, he saw she was still busily typing away on the console. Not feeling like waiting, he kicked open the door.

_Bam! _

The doorframe cracked around the handle with a loud snap. Elaine spun around, startled. Seeing what he'd done, "Damn it, Craig. You could have just asked, you bastard." He shrugged, with a light chortle. She rolled her eyes and turned back around to the terminal.

Walking inside, he immediately noticed a large bloodstain on the floor, and a toolkit strewn open in the corner, as if it had been dropped. There was enough blood on the floor that whoever it belonged to was probably dead. It seemed likely that this was the spot where Ben had been attacked. This could mean someone was out there, pretending to be an NCR engineer. Unfortunately, there was no way to know what the person's exact plans were.

He left the supply closet, rejoining Elaine by the desk. "What's up with you breaking down doors?" she asked.

"Looks like somebody murdered one of the engineers in there. Probably posing as him around here, somewhere. We'll need to keep an eye out."

She nodded. "Well, I've found some unknown login IDs on this terminal. Whoever it was, they were accessing the security duty rosters. I'm guessing they were looking up where Grant's men are going to be positioned during the President's speech."

"Alright, let's go check in with Grant," he replied. _This is not good_, he thought to himself.

They strode outside and up to the Ranger. He faced them, looking even more stressed than before. "You two are just in time. The President's vertibird is coming in right now. It's show time - let's not mess this up." He excused himself and jogged away toward the landing pad.

On the horizon, a vertibird was closing in. Craig half expected to see a missile launch from Fortification Hill and take it down before it even arrived. Turning, he assessed the Dam strategically, looking for vantage points, weaknesses in security. He leaned in toward Elaine, thinking aloud, "If I was an assassin, I would be up on that ridge. Easy sniping. Or if I didn't care about escaping... maybe that near tower, or that landing pad behind us."

She turned to him, a resolute look on her face. "Alright. What do you want to do?"

After a moment of consideration, he replied, "I think we could cover this best if we split up. You on that tower over there, me up above us on this tower. We can keep an eye on the area between us, and also the ridge."

She nodded, and started to move away, down the stairs. He reached out, grabbing her wrist, stopping her. "Be careful, Elaine. I don't like sending you over there alone," he admitted.

She smiled affectionately, squeezing his hand in reply. "I will." She turned and jogged off toward her goal. Watching her go, he had to force himself to put away his worry for now. They had a job to do, and she was just as committed to it as he was. If they weren't prepared for risk, they wouldn't have come here.

He alternated watching the ridge and the crowd, waiting for Elaine to get into position. Nothing appeared amiss, but he knew that if the Legion was clever enough to infiltrate the ranks at the Dam, they weren't going to give themselves away easily. Above him, the vertibird landed, followed by the chatter of soldiers. Elaine climbed the ladder and took her position on the far tower, standing opposite another NCR sniper. Finally, the President and his entourage of Veteran Rangers walked behind him, and down the stairs toward the stage. With Elaine in position, he decided this would be the best time to move up to the upper platform with the vertibird, and get a better vantage point.

Climbing the ladder, he saw an engineer working inside the side panel of the vertibird. As Craig climbed up onto the landing pad, the man finished his work, and started in his direction. He looked surprised to see Craig, and quickened his pace, walking past without making eye contact. It made the hair stand up on Craig's neck... he just _knew_ this must be the man he was looking for. He considered turning around and tackling the guy, but it seemed a better option to wait it out and see what he did.

Craig waited for the man to descend the ladder and leaned over, watching where he went. The man walked briskly down the stairs, and slipped into the crowd. Craig didn't like taking his eye off him, but if the man tried anything, he was sure Elaine would see it. Besides, he needed to find out what the man was doing to the vertibird. Craig walked over to the side panel where he'd been working. Unlatching it, he opened it to find... a bomb. _Shit_. He looked over the makeshift explosive, finding it to be relatively simple. _Okay, I know how to do this_, he thought. _At least I hope I do_.

It had been a long time since his basic explosives training in the NCR. Manny had always been better at this than him. The guy still had a subscription to 'Patriot's Cookbook," even after they'd left the NCR. Sometimes he'd leave the latest magazine in the sniper's nest back in Novac. It was interesting reading... at least when compared to standing around for 12 hours doing nothing. Now, maybe it would actually pay off.

Craig began carefully disarming the device, removing the detonator wire by wire.

* * *

Even though it was only midday, there was a reddish haze in the overcast sky. To Elaine, it added an even more ominous feeling to the task at hand. She looked out over the crowd, noting five - now six - people in engineer's outfits. Four of them were men. One of them might be a Legion assassin. It seemed doubtful that either of the two female engineers were working with the Legion, but she had to be prepared for anything. A wisp of her hair tickled her nose, dancing in the wind. She tucked it quickly behind her ear. The breeze came from the east, and it carried the smell of Legion campfires from Fortification Hill.

Elaine had noticed Craig go over behind the vertibird. _What is he doing?_ She wondered if he'd found something. It was hard not to worry about him when she couldn't see him. But, she reminded herself, they had a job to do. She turned her attention to the crowd, eyeing each person again through her scope. They all looked perfectly in place. _Damn. _ She glanced back up to the other tower - still no Craig. Then she turned her attention to the west, watching for any sign of snipers hunkered down along the ridge. She huffed, tired of waiting for something to happen. It was enormously frustrating - she just wanted this over with.

"Ooof!" she heard the other NCR sniper grunt loudly to her right. She turned, seeing another man in NCR fatigues shove the first over the edge of the tower.

"What the fuck!" she yelled, turning toward him with her rifle. He grabbed it by the barrel and wrestled it to the side, shoving her back against the waist-high wall behind her. "Auugh!" she grunted, releasing the gun and punching him as hard as she could across the face. He grabbed her throat with both hands, trying to push her over the edge. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the huge concrete wall of the Dam, and the water hundreds of feet below. "It's a long way down, bitch!" he hissed. Her body tensed, an instinctual fear coursing through her. _No! Fight this!_ She couldn't - no, she _wasn't_ going to let herself get overwhelmed. _Don't let him win!_ She reached down, searching the depths of herself to summon the strength to fight her fear.

She hooked her leg around his knee and jerked it back. He lost his balance, forcing them both to fall to the ground. Grabbing her by the hair, he dragged her over toward him again, trying to regain his grip around her neck. She pulled back, kneeing him in the gut viciously. Like a flash, she reached to her thigh, and pulled her knife. With a feral growl, she twisted and shoved it through the side of his throat. It made a sickeningly wet, grating sound as it sliced through tendons and flesh. Hot blood gushed out, all over her hand. She ripped the knife forward and out the front of his neck, leaving a horrible gash across his throat. He gurgled, wide eyed and convulsed uncontrollably. She kicked him away from her, and stood, breathing heavily. "Holy fucking shit," she exclaimed aloud. Wiping the knife off on her leg, she put it back in its sheath and picked up her rifle. Running over to the opposite edge, she looked over, and saw the other soldier splayed out unnaturally on the pavement, unmoving. He was undoubtedly dead. _Shit. That was close_.

She looked back up to the ridge, and scanned for enemies. Still nothing there. Then she scanned the other tower for Craig, but he was still out of sight. "Damn it, Craig... where are you?" she worried. _Had something happened to him?_ She wanted to go check on him, but there was no one left to watch this post. Turning down, she looked over the crowd. The President was already speaking, but she was so edgy she didn't bother listening to anything he said. She studied everyone in the crowd... no one looked suspicious. She glanced back over at the now dead Legion assassin - he was wearing proper NCR armor. He looked in place, too, she realized nervously. _Come on, Craig!_ Moving over to the radio, she prepared to ask Grant to check the tower.

Finally, she saw Craig walk away from the base of the tower, down the stairs and toward the crowd. She breathed a sigh of relief, thankful that he was alright. But why had he broken their plans and left his post? He must have seen something in the crowd.

* * *

Craig finished defusing the bomb, and stood, walking over to the edge of the tower. First, he checked for the man in the engineer's outfit. He was still in the crowd, where he had seen him last. Next, he looked to the opposite tower. _Elaine - where was she?_ She had been standing there with that other sniper less than ten minutes ago. Now both were gone from view. He waited a moment for them to reappear. _Fuck._ Descending the ladder, he prepared to go check on her. But, by the time he had come around the side of the tower, he saw a flash of red - her beret. She was again standing there, surveying the crowd. He sighed aloud, _Damn it, Elaine. You scared the shit out of me._ She appeared on task, and switched to watching the ridge to the west through her scope.

Able to focus on their mission again, his eyes quickly settled on the man he had seen on the landing pad, setting up the bomb. Craig eased into the crowd, standing a few people behind the man. Observing the legionnaire, he noticed him fiddling with something in his pocket. _Must be the remote detonator_, he realized. Fortunately, that wouldn't work now. Still, Craig waited, watching. The President awarded a medal to a soldier on stage and the crowd applauded wildly - all except the legionnaire. _Now you're just being obvious._ Craig moved closer, now only a couple feet behind the man.

The President finished his speech and left the stage, heading back to his vertibird. The man watched him as he passed and climbed the tower, a cold look in his eyes. As the vertibird whirred into action, and started to lift off, the man reached into his pocket and grinned. Craig heard the _Click_ of the remote trigger, and saw the man's face change abruptly to surprise when nothing happened.

"_Ave_, motherfucker," Craig growled, and socked him across the face. The man fell to the pavement, and the soldiers around them jumped back in surprise. Retrieving a knife from his pocket, the man raised it to slit his own throat. "Coward!" Craig barked and dove for the knife to stop him. Legionaries were trained to kill themselves to prevent being captured. Craig knew this; he also knew this one might prove pretty damn useful. Anyone given this high-priority of a mission more than likely had information that could help the NCR in the war... it would just have to be _coerced_ out of him.

They struggled for control of the knife, rolling on the ground. The man was surprisingly strong, and obviously trained in hand-to-hand combat. The legionnaire wrenched out of his grip and sliced a wide gash across Craig's forearm. Seconds later, other soldiers in the crowd jumped into the fight, and quickly subdued and disarmed the man.

Craig grimaced and clamped his hand over the wound, feeling his blood run between his fingers. He spat on the legion bastard, causing the man to curse back angrily.

Elaine ran up, already ready with a wad of cloth to use as a compress on his arm. "Oh, Craig," she moaned, seeing his wound. He turned back to her, and immediately noticed she had blood all over her leathers and her hands.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, completely forgetting his own injuries.

"No-..." she didn't understand for a moment, then looked down at herself. "Oh - no. That's not mine. I had a legionnaire to deal with myself." She turned to the man, now being bound and taken away by soldiers. "I wasn't smart enough to take him for questioning, though." She reached out and put the compress on his arm, pushing down hard. "Why didn't you just pull a gun on him?"

"I don't know. I didn't think he was armed," Craig admitted with a shrug, wincing at the sharp pain that was starting to throb in his arm.

Ranger Grant jogged over to them, with a look of relief on his face. "Well, I can't believe we did it. The President is away and safe." He looked at Craig's arm and gestured back toward the main entrance to the Dam. "You should get that checked out, son, the doc's one level down. I'm going to go arrange to interrogate that man you just caught for us."

Elaine nodded and Grant turned and left. "Come on, let's get you stitched up." She wrapped her arm around him, walking with him back into the Dam and down to the infirmary.

Once they arrived, the doctor had Craig sit on a cot with his arm propped up on a rolling examination table. The doctor administered a shot of med-x and started carefully closing the wound. Elaine sat on the other side of him, watching silently. He turned to her, trying to get his mind off the feeling of the sutures being put in. "What happened to you up on the tower?"

"A Legionnaire dressed as an NCR soldier got the jump on the other sniper, and shoved him over the edge. He tried to do the same to me, but I knifed his ass right through the neck." She grinned at him, proudly. "What the hell were you up to? You disappeared for the longest time. Had me all worried."

"Had to diffuse a bomb on the President's vertibird."

"What?" she said in disbelief. "You know how to diffuse bombs?"

"Yeah." He shrugged casually.

She leaned her head onto his shoulder. "And now you know how to open a locked door without me, too. Pretty soon, you won't need me at all," she sighed dejectedly.

He shook his head, taking her chin gently in his hand, he turned her face to meet his eyes. "No. I'll _always_ need you, Elaine." He knew she was joking, but he wanted her to know how he felt.

She moaned softly, as if struck by so much emotion she couldn't hold it in. Her eyes suddenly grew wet with tears, and she smiled. "I think I love you, Craig Boone," she whispered sweetly.

He pulled her to him, kissing her soft lips. _God, he loved her lips_. Holding her close with his free arm, he hugged her to his chest. "I love you, too."


	15. Breaking the Bull

Ranger Grant entered the room brusquely, addressing them. "Hey you two-..." he paused for a moment when he saw them in an embrace, but quickly continued. "I'm on my way down to check on the interrogation of that legionnaire you caught after the President's speech. I thought you might want to come along for the show."

Leaning back away from Craig, Elaine could see that the NCR doctor was still working on his arm. She turned to him, "You mind if I go?"

"No. I'll catch up once this is through," he replied watching the doctor's progress sewing up the gash. She stood and let her hand linger on his shoulder for a moment, he glanced back, and added, "Don't do anything stupid without me."

Grinning, she squeezed his shoulder and replied, "what like forgetting to bring my gun to a knifefight?" He snorted and shook his head, dismissing her joke. She turned to follow Grant out the door.

Walking through the dimly lit corridors of the Dam, she allowed herself a quiet smile. Things were happening so fast around her and Craig... there really wasn't much time to absorb the changes in their relationship over the last twenty-four hours. But... _Wow._ She was _just fine_ with where they were now_.  
_

Grant led her into a small room with a window viewing the actual interrogation room. Inside the inner room, the Legion man was bound tightly to a chair. A couple of NCR soldiers were in the room as well - one leaning against the wall near the door, another actively questioning the man.

Grant spoke, watching the men through the window beside her, "Lieutenant Naylor has been working him for the last thirty minutes. He's good at his job, but this stuff takes time. So far, all he's gotten are curses and insults out of that son of a bitch. Colonel Moore is already barking at me for results. We need this done _yesterday_."

She watched the men inside the inner room for a few minutes. Grant was right, she knew. Things were getting more and more tense every day at the Dam, and very soon, the shit was going to hit the fan. Anyone could tell. If they could just get something out of this man about Caesar's plans... then it might be enough to end this. Inside, Naylor was circling the man, spewing out threats of imprisonment and trial. The Legion man just laughed back. She finally responded, "This isn't going to work. Not fast anyway."

"My thoughts exactly." Grant looked at her sideways, lowering his voice, "I heard that you did a little off-the-books work for the folks at McCarran. Similar situation."

She nodded. "It could expedite the process."

"I would really appreciate it."

Turning to him, she added, "You should know: I _am_ going to have to hurt him."

"That's acceptable. Just don't kill him."

She took her rifle out of its sling and set it down on a table nearby. No need for it in there. Rolling her shoulders, she tried to release her tension and prepare. Finally, she nodded to the ranger.

Grant walked over, and opened the door, interrupting Naylor. "Hey, come on out for a while. Got someone here who wants to have a visit with our friend there." The two NCR men exited, looking surprised to see a woman taking their place. She shrugged them off, annoyed at their appraisal of her. Grant waved her in and closed the door behind her.

The man watched her enter, and let out a loud laugh. "The Profligates send in a _bitch?_"

She smiled darkly, stepping into the light in the center of the room to assess him. No matter the hard-ass look he was trying to put on - he wasn't so tough all strapped to a chair. The other Legion interrogation she'd done at McCarran had turned out to be … well, quite empowering, she remembered with an inward chuckle. Nothing quite drove these fuckers to madness like being talked down to by a woman.

"Mmm, I hear you're a chatty one," she started with an overly saccharine tone.

He glared at her, gnashing his teeth in unbridled wrath.

"So-" she continued, "I need to know what Caesar's plans are. The sooner you tell me, the less I hurt you. There are other things I'd rather be doing with my time."

He snorted, assessing her with a look of scorn. Then a sickening smile ran across his face, "I was just about to tell you how much pleasure it would give me to put a collar around your little neck, but now I see that you've already had the privilege of being put in your place." She felt his eyes on her throat, on her scar. Rage boiled up in her. She wanted to pull the handgun from her waist and put a bullet in his fucking skull. _Focus, don't let him get to you. You've got the upper hand._

She walked up to him and squatted in front of his chair, looking him in the face. It sent a chill down her spine to see his dark eyes staring hotly back, like knives. Channeling the adrenaline that rushed into her veins, she did her best to maintain a menacing tone to her voice. To _show_ her power over him. He wasn't going to offer up any information otherwise. She asked, slowly and deliberately: "Which hand do you favor?"

He scrunched his brows at her, confused. "Get out of my face, you stupid cunt."

She continued, her voice low and stern, "I ask because I'm going to stick this knife," she pulled it out from the sheath on her thigh, "under your fingernails. Just thought I'd let you pick the hand. We're not _complete_ savages this side of the river, after all."

He laughed hatefully again, "I have to admit, the NCR was kind to send you in to make me laugh. I was getting tired of those other profligates. Your empty threats are _far_ more amusing than theirs." She grabbed his hand, still tied to the chair and ran her grip down to his thumb. Pinning it in place, she jabbed the tip of the knife along the underside of his nail. He could only hold his cries for a few seconds before he howled in pain.

Blood dripped from his hand after she released him. She remained squatted in front of him. Lifting the knife, she held it up for him to see. It was still stained to the hilt with dried blood; now the tip was freshly wet with his own. "Haven't cleaned it since I slit your associate's throat. Guess there's no need until I'm done with you."

"You fucking _bitch_!" he hissed, balling his fist around his injured thumb. "NCR can't torture prisoners!"

"I'm not NCR," she growled, punctuating the statement by smacking the hilt of her knife down above his kneecap with a sickening crack. He cried out in pain, and she added, "I'm just an ex-slave, with a huge chip on my shoulder."

"You're lying."

"Am I?" She stood back up. "Now - back to business. I know you must be decently ranked to get this assignment. I guess it might have earned you a nice promotion," she cocked her head to the side and added with pure derision, "...if you'd succeeded. Too bad you failed. I guess the only honorable thing to do would have been to kill yourself, but you couldn't even get that right. Pride of the Legion, huh?"

* * *

After the doctor had finished stitching and bandaging his arm, Craig headed out to meet back up with Elaine and Grant. Walking into the room with the ranger, he immediately noted that Elaine was alone with the legionnaire. He headed for the door to the interrogation room, but Grant held out a hand to stop him. "Let her work him over a little longer." He added with a wide smile, "Your girl is one _tough_ cookie. If she keeps this up, she'll have him whimpering like a dog in ten minutes."

Craig turned to watch her through the window; he could easily tell she had the upper hand in this interaction. The man was highly agitated... and she appeared cool and composed. Still, he wished he could let her know he was there to back her up; he knew she couldn't see him through the one-way glass.

The Legion man growled audibly at her, and then spat on her armor. She sighed with indifference.

"I'm only going to ask nicely once more. Tell me Caesar's plans."

"I don't know anything," he hissed.

"So _difficult_." She tutted and walked slowly around him, speaking cold and casual, "Well, let me tell you a little story. I grew up on a farm out west. My family herded brahmin. Those are some cantankerous beasts, for sure. Especially the males. In livestock, there can be such a thing as too many idiot males butting heads. Ah, I guess you'd know that, though... being in the Legion. Caesar's your big red bull. The rest of you, well, you're … far less important." She said this last bit in as condescending a tone as possible. _Damn, _Craig was impressed with how she carried herself. He knew her well enough to know that she was probably very uncomfortable being in the room with this man. Nonetheless, her façade of composure was almost enough to fool even him.

She circled back around in front of him and stopped, "Well, it's funny - brahmin don't fall into line so docile as you legionaries. They are as stubborn as a brick wall. So, we have this little procedure we do. To _calm_ them, make them easier to work with. Also has the added benefit of fattening them up a bit... better prices at the market. It's really simple to do, actually." She shook her head and waved the knife with a cloyingly sweet smile, "But, I'm getting distracted."

"The procedure... it's called castration. Ever heard of it? I've done a number of them myself. Like I said - it's real simple. Well, for us, that is. We put the critters under while we do it, of course. I can't even _imagine_ how much it would hurt to have your balls cut off."

"Holy shit," Grant said next to Craig with a gulp.

Elaine stepped up to the man, and unzipped his stolen engineer jumpsuit all the way down to his crotch. Pulling it open, she slipped the knife under the collar of his undershirt and sliced it open, baring his chest. Then she leaned over and raised the knife again between their faces. He struggled against his binds, but couldn't move away from her. Craig could definitely see fear in the man's eyes now.

"But _wait_ -" she added, her voice dripping with mock adulation, "the Legion doesn't believe in painkillers. Only weak profligates need that stuff. Isn't that right?" Craig couldn't help but chuckle under his breath. _This was going to be over soon_. She ran the point of the knife slowly down over the man's chest, digging the tip in just enough to slice into his skin. She moved deliberately lower, slicing a red stripe down along his abdomen. He grunted, straining to keep from screaming. Sweat was breaking out all over his face and chest.

"So - Caesar's plans?" She prompted, as she dragged the knife lower, beginning to dig down underneath the elastic of his already blood-stained boxers.

"Caesar's dead!" he exclaimed, "He's dead, okay?"

"What?" Grant murmured next to Craig. He was surprised as well - though there had been rumors that Caesar had fallen ill, no one knew whether this was true. Craig's first instinct was to not believe the man, but it did fit with the story from the other legionnaire they had interrogated at McCarran. If this were true, then the Legion would be unpredictable... desperate, even.

Inside the interrogation room, Elaine paused, still pricking his skin with the knife, "You expect me to believe that?"

He sneered in anger and pain, "It's the truth. Lanius leads now. He is set to take the Dam in honor of Caesar. They attack today - _you are already too late_."

She glared back at him, prodding him sharply with the knifetip. "How will they attack?"

"I don't know," he grimaced. Craig could tell that was a lie - the words came too quick.

Elaine studied the man for a moment, narrowing her eyes. Then she silently started moving the knife down again toward his crotch and he screamed out desperately, "The Legate's camp is just over the Dam! He leads the attack from there. They have plans inside the Dam, but I don't know what, I swear!"

"Are you sure you don't know? Because you remembered that other shit pretty suddenly," she growled and prodded him again.

"That's all I know!" he cringed and tried to suck his stomach away from her blade.

Grant watched, "I think that's all we're going to get." Craig nodded. There was only so much faith you could put in the word of a legionnaire, but it seemed like he had honestly been scared into telling the truth. Besides, if what he said was true, then they didn't have time to work him over for more.

"Goddamn it," Grant murmured, and motioned for one of the other officers. "Pass this on to the Colonel. I'm going to take this directly to General Oliver."

Inside the room, Elaine stood, shaking the man's blood off the tip of her knife in disgust. Craig took the opportunity to open the door, motioning her over with a tilt of his head. She joined him by the door, muttering, "Well this is wonderful. You think it's true?"

He nodded, "Unfortunately, yes."

Her façade now let down, she looked much more sullen than she had when she'd left him at the doctor's less than an hour ago. Without thinking, he reached up and brushed his hand over her cheek, wanting to comfort her. She smiled weakly, "Sorry, I'm just... It's not like I enjoy this shit." She glanced back at the legionnaire. With a sigh, "I am so sick of the damned Legion."

"I know." He replied.

The man strapped to the chair behind them snorted with contempt, "You better enjoy your whore while you can. By the end of the day, the Legion will have her back where she belongs."

_That motherfucker._ Craig stiffened, ready to go beat the bastard's face in, but Elaine put her hand on his chest, holding him back.

Controlling his rage just barely, he glared at the man. "Shut your mouth you son of a bitch. Soon we'll send Lanius and all your friends to hell to meet your _mighty_ Caesar. Then maybe I'll come back for you." At that, he turned and they left.

Returning to Grant, they found him looking just as stressed as before the President's arrival. "Let's take this to General Oliver. This needs his attention right away. Besides, I'm told he'd like to meet you two. Now seems as good a time as any."

* * *

Craig and Elaine entered the General's office behind Ranger Grant. It was a tiny, dingy room, with paint chipping off all the walls and ceiling. Not where he'd expect to find such a high-ranking officer. Instinctively, Craig saluted the man. Though he'd never met Oliver in person before, he had heard many rumors about him - people called him "General Wait-and-See." Lots of other soldiers described him as arrogant and unyielding, holding victory above all else. He wondered how much of that reputation was actually true.

Looking up from a desk covered with notes and maps, Oliver spoke, "Well you took your sweet ass time coming here. Let's get down to brass tacks, we need to get this thing moving if we want to keep the element of surprise."

Next to Craig, Elaine seemed taken aback by his curt greeting, "Excuse me?"

Oliver leaned forward on his desk, hands clasped. His behavior seemed more like a shop owner trying to barter with them for a price, than that of a General who commanded an entire army. "You two have done some great work for the NCR up to this point, and we are hoping you'll be willing to aid us once again. I am in the beginning stages of planning out an assault on The Fort. Once our forces are in place-"

Ranger Grant chimed in, "Sir, pardon my interruption, but we've just finished interrogating the assassin captured during the President's visit. He claims that the Legion plans to attack today."

"What?" the General exclaimed with annoyance. "Our allies won't be here for days. Are you certain it's the truth?"

"Well, sir... the man said the Legate is leading their troops out of a camp just on the other side of the Dam and-" Grant started, but was interrupted by an engineer bursting into the room breathlessly.

"Sir I don't know what happened, but a bunch of Legionaries just stormed into the power station."

"What? How is that possible?" Oliver shouted, becoming red in the face.

"I don't know, sir," the engineer stammered nervously. "There was some talk of them entering through the clogged intake tunnels, but I don't have any confirmation."

Oliver turned to Craig and Elaine. "Okay, listen here. Can I count on you to help me resolve this situation? The NCR needs all the support it can get."

Craig looked over to her, seeking some sort of confirmation that she was still with him. She didn't speak - she didn't need to. He could see the answer in her eyes: _All the way_. He turned back to the General, "Yes, sir."

Oliver glanced back down at his maps, like they'd have the answer to the battle. It seemed like he was so disconnected from the world outside. Craig wondered if that was how the decision at Bitter Springs was made. Just marks scribbled on paper. No wonder things went wrong sometimes. Finally, the General spoke, "It seems obvious that you'll need to make your way to this camp they have on the eastern bank and take out the Legate. That will hamstring their attack."

Craig nodded with conviction, "we'll take care of him."

Standing, the man saluted them. "I can't thank you enough for your support. Go kill those bastards."

As the exited the room and returned to the power plant, they were immediately surrounded with the sounds of chaos and gunfire. Adrenaline was already beginning to numb him, pushing back fear and keeping his mind set on its goal. Craig turned to Elaine, raising his rifle, "Looks like this is it." It dawned on him that he had said something similar when they'd visited Bitter Springs. But now, he knew he didn't mean the same thing. He wasn't doing this looking for judgment... or punishment... or death.

He thought for a moment about _why_ they were fighting this battle. They weren't in the NCR. Maybe they were doing this out of some _selfish_ desire for revenge against those who had hurt them so terribly. It certainly was justified. Or maybe they were doing it _selflessly_ - to prevent others from suffering such pain. They both knew what was at stake if the Legion won this battle. Maybe they were doing it for each other. He decided their reasons didn't really matter. All that mattered was that he knew they were doing the right thing.

"Let's finish this," she replied, with a broad smile.


	16. The End

A/N: Huge apologies for not updating as soon as usual... the holidays have taken up so much of my time. Lots of love to all the reviewers!

* * *

Elaine didn't have time to think more than a few moments before the battle broke out around them. As soon as they reentered the power plant, a wave of Legion men rushed at them from the stairwell to the lower level. Luckily, Elaine and Craig had a number of NCR soldiers with them, so they hadn't been completely overwhelmed in the confining space.

"Dammit," Elaine groaned, feeling her side where her armor had stopped a bullet. Just because the round hadn't pierced the armor didn't mean it didn't feel like someone had punched her in the ribs - hard. Boy was that going to bruise. "These guys are well-equipped."

"Help! You've gotta do something!" A man in some kind of hotshot red engineering jumpsuit ran up to Craig and grabbed his arm.

"Get off me," Craig said gruffly, pushing him away.

"What's wrong?" Elaine asked, not really sure if the guy was stable enough to give her a useful response. He was panicked, shaking uncontrollably.

"The Legion is using the intake tunnels to get into the Dam! Someone has to stop them."

"Is there something we can do to keep them from getting inside?" she asked.

"I... we don't even use those tunnels... I don't know..." he muttered, looking around wildly. She noticed there was an embroidered name tag on his jumpsuit - Mike Lawson.

She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him violently, "Come on! There has to be something. Think, Lawson!"

"Um," he appeared startled and finally looked her in the eyes. After staring at her blankly for a second, he seemed to come back to reality. "Maybe-... maybe you can divert the flow of the water into the generator turbines? That would grind them up like hamburger - yeah..."

"Okay - how?"

"There's a terminal on the second floor just into Power Plant 3." He pointed up a stairwell just next to them.

"Alright - I've got it." She turned to go, but the man called to her again.

"Oh - you may need to go outside to activate the manual override. That system hasn't been used in a long time."

She nodded dismissively and headed briskly up the stairs, with Craig and the other troopers at her heels. "I'll take care of it."

"Good luck." he called meekly after her. "I'm going to find a place to not get shot." She heard Craig let out a snort of a laugh. _Wouldn't we all like to be doing that right now,_ she thought.

Pushing open the large metal door between the power plants, she looked around for the controls. Craig stepped over to the edge of the catwalk, firing with precision at the Legion troops on the ground level. After a moment of searching, she noted a waist-high console with all sorts of pressure gauges and sensor dials. _Shit._ Of course it was complicated. Why the hell hadn't she brought that Lawson guy to do this? After studying the controls for a minute, she looked over the set of switches that looked like they should divert the overflow water through the main system. Reroute auxiliary intake into the generator tunnels - _that's what he said to do!_ - she flipped a couple switches and turned the final dial, increasing the flow.

The pressure indicators shot up quickly into the red. "Fuck! Now what?" she groaned. A red warning light lit on the console - 'Manual Override Required.'

Craig glanced back at her, "What is it?"

"There's a blockage in the intake system. Gotta get to the manual override valve to relieve the pressure."

"That guy said the override was outside. There was an exit back in Plant 4. Let's go." They left the NCR troops on the balcony, still firing on the Legion as even more emerged from the lower levels of the Dam. They backtracked into the next power plant, ignoring the firefight around them, and proceeded outside through a door on their left.

Stepping outside she realized they were at the river's water level, with Hoover Dam looming imposingly above them to their left. It had never looked so impressive to her. Even though it felt huge on the inside, nothing could compare to the awe it commanded when standing at its feet. A steady outflow of water arced in an unnatural waterfall over to their right, sending up a cloud of cooling mist. She could feel the tiny water droplets settling on her face, it was deceptively relaxing. Down here, it was peaceful - she had to strain to notice the muffled sound of gunfire and explosions inside and far away atop the Dam.

"Wow, this would be a nice place to kick back with a beer," she mused aloud.

"You couldn't be convinced to drop the battle against the Legion this morning," Craig teased as he searched the area for hostiles. "And now you want to take a break for a beer?"

She hopped down off the platform and strode along the water's edge, looking for the manual override. "I didn't say I was going to have one _now_. Don't worry, big guy. You were more tempting in bed earlier than a beer by the river will ever be. It sure would be nice to take a swim, though-"

"Spotted!" Craig shouted, and shoved her down behind a sandbag. She fell with an audible 'Oof!' He started shooting down toward the Dam's face, staying in cover beside her. Retrieving her rifle, she peered over the bags to see several Prime legionnaires had emerged on the far end of the concrete walkway. "Eat this," Craig growled at his target. She fired on the nearest one carrying a big axe, ripping a hole in his bicep and forcing him to drop the weapon. She loved that about the Legion - they rarely wore enough armor to prevent her from crippling them quickly. _Cocky assholes, they think their stupid Legion pride will protect them_.

Elaine took the final shot, piercing the last Prime's skull with a well-aimed headshot. "Hah, sucker," she laughed triumphantly. "What do you think? Good enough for First Recon?" she slapped Craig on the shoulder and stood from behind their cover. Along the edge of the walkway a few feet ahead of them was a pipe with a red wheel knob, sticking up in a gap in the retainer wall. "That must be the pressure release valve," she said as she vaulted over the sandbags and moved to kneel by the wheel. Over the edge of the concrete, she could see the output of the Dam rushing underneath them, giving the river its speed. She tried to turn the valve, but it was rusted tightly in place. "Craig... can you get this?"

He cocked his head, indicating for her to stand and keep an eye out for more enemies. Once she was on watch, he squatted and tried to turn it, but even he couldn't make it budge. "Damn," he grunted, turning red in the face as he gave it all his strength.

"Wait-..." she tapped him on the shoulder and ran over to one of the dead Primes. Grabbing his automatic rifle, she brought it back over, and wedged its barrel into the wheel, to work as a lever. "Try this." Craig yanked on the gun, and slowly the wheel made a grinding sound and turned. There was a mechanical grumbling as the water was rerouted through the Dam's turbine systems, and then the water beside them erupted in a bubbly red mess, complete with chopped up bits of Legionaries.

"Gross - suddenly I don't feel like taking a swim anymore." Craig shot her one of those half-amused, half-annoyed looks that made her want to laugh out loud.

His serious exterior crumpled, and he shook his head with a chuckle, "You'd never make First Recon with that mouth of yours. Always talking."

"First Recon just can't handle me, you mean. Besides, you have to admit, I'm much better company than those duds," she reloaded with a grin. "Alright - back to business. Those bastards won't be sneaking into the Dam, now. Let's head up to the top and join the assault on the East bank."

They jogged down to the end of the riverwalk, and reentered power plant two, fighting their way through prime legionaries and centurions. It was more difficult to fight with only the support columns as cover against the enemy fire. Fortunately, a group of rangers joined them quickly, and helped them put down the squad of legionnaires. They proceeded into power plant one, making their way toward the exit. Being on the second floor catwalks proved an advantage here, and they decimated the remaining Legion men on the ground level without taking any damage. "Alright, that's over," Craig grunted next to her, lowering his rifle and giving his bandaged arm a shake.

Ahead of them, one of the NCR troopers kicked a nearby Legion corpse mockingly, "Had enough yet?" The soldiers moved on, continuing their sweep of the Dam to take out any remaining enemies.

She turned to Craig, "You still doing alright?"

"Yeah, arm's just sore," he dismissed it. She was already feeling sore all over - this was turning out to be a long day. They proceeded up the stairs, exiting through the now empty visitors center. Once outside, she could smell the battle on the air - a morbid perfume of gunpowder, singed flesh, and smoke.

As she stepped through the door, a man leaning against the wall grabbed her ankle, "Help. Please."

Startled, she looked down, and saw his legs had been severed at the knees by a grenade, or some other kind of explosion. He was bleeding out rapidly, a look of terror on his face. She cringed and knelt by his side, "Oh god." He looked like he couldn't be more than sixteen years old. A child. His young face was so pale, it hurt her heart to look at him. Craig put his hand on her shoulder. He didn't need to say anything - she knew that the kid wasn't going to make it, no matter what she did.

"Here," she pulled a handful of med-x from her bag, and injected each of his thighs with a couple syringes, knowing it would at least numb the pain. She could at least do that for him. She took his hand, trying to give him some comfort.

"You look like my sister," he said through the druggy haze.

She found herself completely unable to think of anything to say. "I-... I'm sorry..."

"Tell her I love her. Tell my family," he said weakly.

"What's your name?" Elaine asked, feeling tears swell in her eyes.

"Nate. Nate Wilson," he sighed, letting his eyes close. She held his hand for a minute longer, but then his head drooped and he faded silently away.

She released his hand gently, placing it across his chest. Standing, she ground her teeth, trying to keep from getting upset. Still, a tear rolled down her cheek. "Let's go," she said, wiping it away with her sleeve.

They moved to join a squad of NCR troops, and began their advance across the Dam. Elaine's mind was still distracted by the dead youth behind her. How many had given their lives to drive Caesar back, to bring some semblance of civilization to this wild land? The New California Republic was certainly flawed in many respects, but hell, she was old enough to know that everything is. To whatever end, she felt more committed than ever to do her best to take down the Legate.

She bent down to reload. "You're mine!" Craig growled next to her as he took a shot. Another trooper somewhere nearby goaded, "You like that?" as he emptied his clip into a legionnaire. She took aim again, continuing the assault.

Vindictively, she wished it were Caesar waiting for them on the far bank. It would feel so much more meaningful to put a bullet between his eyes. He was the one responsible for bringing the Legion beast to life. When he'd sent her the Mark to enter the Fort, she knew it _had_ to be a trap. It would've been utterly stupid to go there, even if she'd had the reckless courage at the time to do it. _Courage,_ she pondered the word, as she continued shooting over sandbags, pumping bullets into the waves of legionaries facing them. Here she was, rushing at the very heart of the Bull. Didn't feel so reckless now. Caesar was dead - how he died was irrelevant, she reminded herself. Now all that was left was to crush the Bull itself.

A loud roar of engines announced the arrival of the Boomers, bringing her out of her thoughts. As the huge bomber flew overhead, it dropped shells onto the remaining Legion men at the far side of the Dam. The giant structure shook beneath their feet, and the sound of the explosions at such close range was nearly deafening. She and Craig both dropped behind a sandbag wall and covered their ears. Once all the bombs had fallen, she heard a NCR sniper next to her curse in surprise.

"Glad that paid off," Craig muttered to her as he reloaded.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head, trying to get rid of the numbing ringing in her ears. Visiting Nellis had seemed like a crazy errand for the NCR... and well, the people there were _definitely_ nuts. "For a second there, I was worried they were going to blow the whole Dam, dropping bombs on it like that. Fucking crazy Boomers." The plane flew away to the northwest, back toward Nellis.

A squad of NCR Ranger veterans met up with them on the other side to offer support and escort them to the Legate. Breaking methodically through the Legion defenses, it wasn't too difficult to work their way to the midst of the enemy stronghold. The ranger vets had been a godsend - their skill rivaled First Recon. Together, they'd been able to snipe the melee fighters and dogs before any of them even came within striking distance. The centurions with automatic rifles were a bit tougher, crippling a few of the rangers. The wounded fell back to safety, just outside the camp. Now they were down to only two extra men, and she felt a bit undermanned. If General Oliver had thought this such an important mission, why hadn't he sent a squadron of troops with them?

As they regrouped, Elaine found the brief pause in battle unnerving. "Where the hell is the Legate?" She had expected him to make himself known as soon as they'd arrived - his reputation was not that of a man who'd hide and let others fight his battles for him.

Over one of the ranger's radio: "Unit 15, reinforce Unit 16 at defense point sigma delta." Elsewhere the battle was still raging.

She looked over at Craig, awaiting his usual tactical advice. He said, "Let's head uphill, maybe that'll take us toward the Fort - I don't know. I don't like them having the advantage of higher ground, though. If they attack while we're down here, we'll be sitting ducks."

The remaining two uninjured ranger vets took point and moved up the winding path cautiously. Behind them, Elaine turned to Craig, "Do you think this was a ruse? Maybe the Legate isn't even here. What if-"

He held up a hand, silencing her, and the two of them stopped in their tracks. "Heard something."

The path was steep, and the rangers were rounding a bend ahead when suddenly the attack came from above. An enormous man, his face hidden behind a metallic mask, jumped down from the ledge above and cleaved one man's head clean off with a swipe of his huge sword. The second ranger fired a few shots, but was run through before he could do any serious damage to the enemy's massive armor. The Legate kicked the man off his sword, and sent him flailing down to the ground below. Even if she hadn't seen his picture before on NCR propaganda, she would have known this was Lanius, without a doubt. He truly was a monster of a man. Turning, he raised his hand, pointing at Elaine and Craig, "And who are you to come before me … you bear the insignia of the Bear, yet you do not wear it as a soldier of the West wears it." He strode forward with frightening confidence.

Elaine backed away, trying to maintain distance. "I may not be NCR, but I sure as shit won't let you take Hoover Dam."

"Brave words, but words will get you nowhere. I have heard such things said before. The outcome is always the same - you will be crushed under my heel." He raised his sword, gesturing to the Dam beyond them. "It was Caesar's will that this gate to the West bear the flag of the Legion. Caesar's will shall be done."

"So you serve your master, even in death?" It was a risky move, she knew. But if she stalled long enough, more NCR troops might arrive to back them up. Of course, waiting might mean the arrival of more legionnaires. Still, they needed every second she could buy them. Out of the corner of her eye, she could tell Craig was studying the terrain, looking for some sort of advantage.

"You try to anger me? I honor Caesar by leading as he would. As I expect my men to honor me. A Profligate such as yourself could not understand such loyalty. But, I will give you a quick lesson in respect."

"You will not succeed in taking the Dam. And when you fail, the Legion will crumble into nothing. That will be your legacy."

He hissed sardonically, "Save your speeches, woman. We will take Hoover Dam and carve our way West, paving the road beneath us with the bones of the NCR." He tightened the grip on his sword, swinging it beside him ominously like a pendulum.

She knew this was it - there would be no more stalling. Elaine responded with decisive finality, "The battle ends here - with you." At this, she leveled her rifle at him. _Holy shit... _she was so tense, she felt like something inside her might snap.

"At least you have the courage to face me yourself," she could almost hear Lanius smile behind his mask. "For that, I will make your death a swift one."

He launched forward with a guttural battle cry, sword raised and ready. The rounds from her rifle seemed to have no effect, though she could tell that she'd torn into his flesh in at least one place along his arm. Even though the Legion was adamantly against drugs, she couldn't help but wonder if the man had Psycho and Jet flowing through his veins instead of human blood. One of Craig's rounds struck the joint in his armor at the knee, sending out a vicious spurt of crimson. Still the man didn't slow, storming onto them like an enraged bighorner. She reloaded quickly, preparing to lay into him with another volley of bullets_._

Lanius swung his sword at her, forcing her to jump backwards, teetering at the edge of the path. The sword was undoubtedly heavy - its slowness was their most obvious advantage. She fired at point-blank range, hitting him in the shoulder joint. His torso only twisted back a bit with the blow, but he lost the grip on his sword with one hand. She started to strafe around him, moving away uphill so that Craig would have access to his back. Maybe his armor would be easier to penetrate on that side, she hoped. She took aim and sunk a bullet through the leather of his boot.

Regaining control over his weapon, the Legate lunged for her again, this time alarmingly close. She was only able to parry the blow by tumbling to the side, smacking into the cliff face hard. The sword's tip still swiped her across the side, slicing through her armor like butter and severing the straps on her side satchel. _Fuck!_ The fiery sting of the gash on her side was far less panic-inducing than the realization that her ammo had been in that pouch, which now lay on the ground by the Legate's feet. How many bullets did she have left in the gun? _Six?_ She scrambled backwards, further up the hill.

As the Legate stepped toward her, he jerked repeatedly at the impact of Craig's precise shots from behind. _How could he still be walking?_ She could see blood splatter out at each hit, but it was like he didn't feel them. He seemed to feel _no_ pain, like one of the Fiends... but a hundred times stronger. She shot him in the boot again, praying it would drop him to the ground - or at least slow him. Though blood oozed freely from the wound, he kept coming.

He was close now - too close. She couldn't possibly evade another swipe from that huge sword. She aimed for his eye - the only weak point in his helmet. _If only..._ she pulled the trigger.

_TWANG!_ It thunked against the thick plating of his brow, leaving a substantial dent, but not breaking through. He raised his sword to strike her down - and she emptied the remaining rounds into his face, hoping for a miracle.

From behind, Craig tackled the Legate, sending him toppling forward. Elaine barely had time to dodge to the side. Craig gripped the man's helmet by the horns on each side, and pulled it off his head. With a loud grunt, he stabbed his combat knife at an angle deep into the man's neck. Elaine was shocked to see the man move again, even after this critical blow. Lanius pushed up off the ground and swung his elbow back, cracking Craig across the face, sending him tumbling away on the ground. Lanius dove after him with his sword, but Craig rolled to the side, barely evading his blade.

Not knowing what else to do with her empty rifle, Elaine grasped it by the barrel and swung it down onto the back of the Legate's head with all the force she could muster. As it struck his skull, the stock snapped off with a loud _CRACK!_ To her amazement, the Legate dropped limply to the ground. _Unconscious? Or... maybe even dead?_

She wasn't going to take any chances. Dropping the gun, she yanked the knife from her thigh sheath and jumped onto the man's back, sinking it as deep as she could into the exposed nape of his neck. She clamored back to her feet quickly, leaving it in his flesh. There was no reaction, he just lay there with his face in the red dirt, blood slowly pooling around him. Craig stood shakily and took her arm, pulling her away from the man's body, as if he might come back to life again.

Panting heavily, she gasped, "Holy shit - I think he's finally dead."

Craig unloaded the rest of his rounds into the back of the man's head, which was no longer protected by his helmet. Elaine looked away as his skull was shattered into a pulpy mess by the bullets. "_Now_ he is," Craig said, sounding just as exhausted as she was.

She stepped forward, and gingerly picked up the two pieces of her rifle from beside the man's body. Holding them up, she examined them with disappointment in the warm light of the setting sun. "You think you can fix this?" she asked hopefully.

Craig laughed freely, shaking his head. "Let me aim that for you next time," he quipped. She knew he was aware of how much it irritated her when he said that. Turning back to face him, she shot him a look. He continued, "Why didn't you just shoot him?"

She pointed at the side of her armor, now missing the ammo pouch. "I was empty, you idiot. You think I would have done that otherwise?" Then she laughed, too... it _was_ pretty damn funny. "Seriously, though - can you fix it?"

"I can try," the corner of his lip curled into a smile. "But for now, sit down," he indicated a rock to her side. "Let me fix _you_ up first. You're more important than that rifle."

Elaine scoffed a laugh, but did as he asked. She shed her upper armor and pulled up the side of her shirt to expose the slice across her torso. He injected a couple stimpaks and started putting in a line of stitches. As he worked, she could see some NCR troopers moving into the camp below. The sounds of explosions and gunfire were still in the air, but seemed much further away. Maybe the main forces had made it to the Fort by now. With the Legate lying dead at their feet, she felt confident that the battle was already won, even if it wasn't quite over yet. Craig bandaged the wound, and she put her armor back into place. "Thanks," she ran a hand over his face with a relieved smile. An angry bruise was quickly developing on his cheek... but he looked as handsome as ever to her.

A group of veteran rangers approached, accompanied by General Oliver. He looked down at the dead Legate, and shook his head in evident disbelief.

"What a fine bit of work! Truth be told, I'm surprised the both of you made it through in one piece. You _and_ the Dam. I'm impressed to say the least, and that's no easy thing. You've secured the NCR's future - the administration sends its thanks, for what it's worth."

"We sure didn't do it alone," she said, standing next to Craig. "Lots of your men assisted us along the way. Many gave their lives. They deserve thanks as well."

"Ma'am, you may not be a soldier of the Republic, but your courage and desire to do right are what the NCR should always endeavor toward. Sometimes the Republic gets lost along the way while it's trying to follow its instincts... but when soldiers like you come along... you set an example and make us get back on track. And what you've done here today, that's going to keep us going for a long while."

"Thank you, sir. It just felt like the right thing to do." she said, surprised and humbled by his outright praise. "So, what happens now for the NCR?"

"We clean up, take prisoners, and watch the East for any more trouble from the Legion. We'll let the dust settle, and see how the Mojave adapts to life without Caesar coming for its throat. Something tells me we better enjoy this breather while we can. What about you, miss? Heading to Vegas for some R&R?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I may just travel a bit."

"Can't keep the courier spirit down, eh? Fair enough. Well, thanks again. We'll take it from here." He shook her hand strongly, and then turned to Craig. "You deserve thanks as well, sir. I hear that you were with First Recon - a real outstanding soldier. We could sure use someone like you back in our ranks. I'd be more than happy to put in a good word for you if you'd like."

Beside her, Craig seemed to stand taller - proud and at attention. For a moment, she wondered what he'd say. He shook his head, "Thank you sir, I'm honored that you'd say that... but I only take orders from one person these days," he wrapped an arm around her waist. "No disrespect intended, of course."

With understanding, Oliver smiled, "Well, I'm glad she's on our side, then. Good luck to you both."

The General saluted, and then moved on to other business. Together, they started back toward the Dam. Craig looked down at Elaine, "Where to now?"

She thought for a moment, then just shrugged, "Away from here - from this battle. Let's just get across the Dam and camp somewhere for the night."

"Sounds good," he agreed.

* * *

They walked into the wastes for an hour or so, mostly silent. The sun had already gone down, and it was a clear, starry night. The near-full moon was large in the sky, offering plenty of light to keep an eye on the landscape around them. She wasn't sure where they were headed. Neither of them had really taken point - they just walked. Once they'd made it up into the hills, though, the sounds and smells of the battle were quelled. It felt like any other night in the Mojave: cool, crisp, and... to her, oh so calming. Elaine slowed and dropped her pack near the edge of a cliff, overlooking the wastes around them. Off on the horizon, the lights of New Vegas danced in celebratory fashion against the dark sky. "This'll do," she sighed, turning to Craig.

He nodded and pulled out a bottle of water. Taking a long drink, he passed it on to her. "Any big plans I should know about?"

She took it and drank, not realizing until now how thirsty she had been. He gathered a few pieces of cactus and grass in a pile and squatted to start a fire. "No - not really," she said finally. She sat down behind him and watched as he lit the kindling and blew lightly to feed the flame. "Anything you want to do?" she asked as she stretched her tired legs out.

Satisfied that the fire would catch, he scooted back next to her, leaning against the rock face behind them. Staring off at the horizon, he replied simply, "Nah." She regarded his face in the moonlight - he looked... uncharacteristically relaxed.

She smiled to herself, a sense of relief washing over her. _It really was over._ She turned a bit and leaned back against his chest, just enjoying their private view of the wastes. He fished a couple boxes of Dandy Boy apples from his bag, and put one in her lap. Opening it, she thought aloud: "I'd like to go by McCarran in a week or so, once things have calmed down. Find out about that boy at the Dam - Nate Wilson. They could probably look him up, right? I'd like to write a letter to his family, telling them his last thoughts were of them... that he loved them. Maybe that would be a comfort to them."

"Always fixing things..." he replied, wrapping an arm around her.

"I have to say, I'm getting pretty good at it." She smiled up at him warmly, and then started snacking on the food. Of all the different types of irradiated pre-war food, she loved these freeze-dried apples the best. Too bad she didn't have any fresh ones today - it would be a fitting reward. She started to speak, but then held up a finger dramatically, indicating for him to wait. He gave her a quizzical look. She chewed the mouthful of food properly, and then swallowed before adding, "Just wanted to say we should toast or something - for actually surviving today. Didn't want to drive you away with my poor manners, though" She ribbed him with her elbow. "So - Cheers!" she raised the box of apples and tapped it against his.

"Cheers," he laughed. Finishing his food, he reached into his bag and pulled out her broken rifle, looking it over. After a moment, "we may need to stop by the Gun Runners to see if I can get some replacement parts made. This isn't going to be a simple repair."

"If it needs a new stock, maybe I'll etch 'Legateslayer' onto it, huh?"

"Sure sounds better than 'Ratslayer,'" he admitted with a grin.

"Ooh, while we're there, we can stop by the Crimson Caravan and see if they found any of the books I was looking for..." she murmured. Leaning her head back against his shoulder, she closed her eyes, enjoying the slow rise and fall of his chest. "Then maybe we can go to Jacobstown, get away from it all. Visit Lily - she'd love that. Just kick back and read a book..." she sighed contentedly.

"Dinosaurs?" he asked, still a bit amused by her curiosity.

"Sure. I think I've got time for that now," she said, eyes still closed.

"I still think they couldn't have been real. Only thing I noticed about 'em in Novac were those teeth. There wouldn't have been people around to start the Great War. They'd all have been dinosaur food."

She laughed, "Good point. I bet they weren't that big. Maybe like the size of geckos. Hey - speaking of bets - on our way, you wanna go to Vegas? Hit a casino?"

"I thought you were sick of that place."

We'll go to the Ultra-Luxe this time. I dunno - just for a night. I'm feeling pretty damn lucky right now."

He leaned his chin on her head and chuckled lightly, "Sure."

Something she hadn't thought about in over a month crept into her mind. "I told my folks I'd send them a postcard from Vegas when I got there. Guess I could do that, too. Tell them I'm alright."

"Have you written to them since we met?" he asked.

"No," she paused. "I haven't written to them at all, actually. Makes it kind of hard to do now."

He lifted his head and looked at her. "They don't know anything?"

She shook her head. "Don't look at me like that. I know, I know - I'm going around fixing everyone else's problems, but I forgot to fix my own." He continued staring at her - she could tell he was surprised. "Well, I left on pretty bad terms. Then all the shit happened with the Legion. When I finally got free again, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I didn't want them to know about what had happened."

She sighed heavily and continued, "I thought about writing anonymously to tell them I'd died. Heck, at the time, it felt almost true. Seemed better for them to think I was dead, than to know what I'd been through. But, I never did it - I couldn't lie to them. So I just ignored the issue. Then when you and I started traveling around... well, I still didn't know what to say to them. Thinking about it, it seemed like a whole lifetime had passed... it would've been so difficult to write it all out. And we were so busy, anyway." She sighed, _I was being really stupid,_ she admitted to herself. "I guess I should write them now, though."

"I think you'll be glad you did." He brushed a hand over her hair, smoothing it before resting his chin on her head again. Pulling her tightly to his chest, he was quiet for a good while.

She shifted onto her side, so she could look at his face. "What about you? Do you have any family?"

He looked down to the fire, "My mother died when I was a teenager. My father is a career military man - he was one of the reasons I signed up for the NCR in the first place. He and I stopped talking after I dropped out of First Recon. He was pretty disappointed."

"Did you tell him why you left? About Bitter Springs?" she asked.

"No. He always assumed it was because I met Carla. We wrote each other a few times, but it was always short. He knew I was living in Novac, but not much else."

"Bet he'd be pretty damn proud of you now," she mused.

"Maybe," he said thoughtfully.

"Guess if I have to write my folks, I'll just make you write your old man, too. So that way, we're suffering equally. Either that, or when we get to Vegas, we'll just send them each a postcard - 'Enjoying New Vegas - Love, Elaine and Craig.' That would be so terrible!" She laughed hysterically, gripping her bandaged side with a little cringe. "Ow."

He grinned at her mischievously, pulling her closer to him, so their faces were next to each other. "You know what I was just thinking of? Do you remember when you told me to 'never fucking touch you again?'"

She scoffed playfully, "Yeah, I s'pose I did say that. That was a long time ago, though." She tapped her chin and cocked an eyebrow in an equally roguish look, "Besides, I seem to remember you saying something like, you 'didn't want _anything_ from me,' yourself." She leaned in and gave him a lingering kiss, "I guess we can leave those parts out of the letters..."

As their bodies entwined by the fire, neither one was too concerned with the letters they'd be writing... or broken rifles, dinosaurs, or even where they'd be staying the next night. They had each other - and if there was anything they'd learned... it was that you should just grab what joys life hands you, and enjoy the hell out of it.

* * *

A/N: I have truly had fun writing this … I hope you all enjoyed the ride as well. Feel free to leave any comments, thoughts, or delicious cookies in the reviews... Thanks to all who Fav'd this story, and to everyone who's been following along!


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